OF  THL 

U  N  I  VERS  ITY 
Of  ILLINOIS 


MI83P 

1825 


OAK  ST.  HDSF 


1  t 

THE 

PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP? 


A  POEM. 


■ 


THE 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP, 

A  POEM, 

/JV*  TWO  PARTS; 


TO  WHICH  ARE  ADDED  A  FEW  OTHER  POEMS, 

AND  ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 

BY  JAMES  M'llENRY. 


From  Friendship  which  outlives  my  former  themes, 
Glorious  survivor  of  old  Time  and  Death ! 

From  Friendship,  thus,  that  flower  of  heavenly  seed, 
The  wise  extract  earth’s  most  Hyblean  bliss, 

Superior  wisdom,  crown’d  with  smiling  joy .—Toung. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

A.  R.  POOLE,  NO.  66,  CHESTNUT  STREET. 

1825. 


Western  District  of  Pennsylvania ,  to  xvit: 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  December, 
in  the  forty-sixth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  Ame¬ 
rica,  A.  D.  1821,  James  M‘Henry,  of  the  said  district,  hath  deposited,  in 
this  office,  the  tide  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  proprietor, 
in  the  words  following,  to  wit: 

The  Pleasures  of  Friendship*,  a  Poem,  in  two  parts;  to  which  are  added, 
a  few  Original  Irish  Melodies.  By  James  M'Henry. 

From  Friendship  which  outlives  my  former  themes. 

Glorious  survivor  of  old  Time  and  Death ! 

From  Friendship,  thus,  that  flower  of  heavenly  seed, 

The  wise  extract  earth’s  most  Hyblean  bliss. 

Superior  wisdom  crown’d  with  smiling  joy.— Young. 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled, 
“An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies, 
during  the  time  therein  mentioned;”  and  also  to  the  Act,  entitled  “An 
Act  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled,  An  act  for  the  encouragement 
of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  time  therein  men¬ 
tioned,”  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  en¬ 
graving  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints.” 

R.  J.  WALKER,  Clerk, 
Western  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


THE 


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£  PLEASURES  OP  FRIENDSHIP. 


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PART  I. 


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I  # 


ANALYSIS  OF  PART  I. 


The  first  consideration  of  the  Poem  is,  the  merciful  dispensation  ot 
the  Deity,  in  endowing  the  human  mind  with  those  feelings  which  con¬ 
stitute  Friendship,  in  order  to  furnish  an  emollient  for  every  species  of 
affliction. — A  parallel  is  then  drawn  between  the  effects  of  the  sun  on 
the  different  seasons  of  the  year,  and  those  of  Friendship  on  the  corres¬ 
ponding  periods  of  life. — The  death  of  Abel,  the  first  instance  of  any 
breach  of  Friendship  among  men,  is  alluded  to,  as  introducing  the  curse 
pronounced  at  the  fall,  upon  Adam  and  his  posterity.— Friendship  con¬ 
sidered  as  one  of  the  joys  of  heaven.— The  earliest  of  the  nobler  feelings 
experienced  in  the  days  of  childhood. — The  pleasing  effects  of  youthful 
Friendship  when  reflected  on  in  old  age. — The  advantage  of  possessing  a 
true  and  active  friend,  when  overtaken  by  misfortune,  illustrated  in  the 
episode  of  Moutalbot  and  Connor.— The  soothing  effects  of  Friendship 
in  sickness  and  exile.— Its  influence  in  rendering  us  resigned  to  death, 
exemplified  in  the  story  of  Jacob  and  Joseph.— The  power  of  confiden¬ 
tial  friendship,  in  relieving  the  pain  which  arises  from  the  concealment 
of  passion,  or  the  indulgence  of  remorse.— The  happy  effects  of  a  friendly 
emulation  in  the  acquirement  of  any  science  or  profession. — Apostro¬ 
phe  to  Emulation. — Improvement  in  the  various  branches  of  knowledge, 
and  in  the  arts  and  professions  cultivated  by  men,  figuratively  considered 
as  the  offspring  of  a  union  between  Friendship  and  Emulation.— The 
pleasures  of  reflecting  abroad  upon  our  friends  at  home,  instanced  in 
the  meditations  of  a  sailor,  when  in  the  lonely  situation  of  keeping 
watch  by  night.— The  consolations  of  this  passion  to  Negroes  in  a  state 
of  slavery. — The  miserable  condition  of  Christian  slaves  in  the  Barbary 
states.— Two  instances  given  of  the  exertions  of  benevolence  in  their 
behalf;  the  first,  that  of  Mr.  Willshire  in  favour  of  Captain  Riley  and  his 
fellow  sufferers;  the  second,  that  of  the  British  government,  in  the  me¬ 
morable  expedition  against  Algiers,  in  the  year  1816,  commanded  by 
lord  Exmouth,  which  compelled  the  latter  power  to  liberate,  without 
ransom,  all  the  Christian  slaves  in  its  possession,  and  to  agree  that  all 
Christians  captured  in  battle,  should,  for  the  future,  be  treated  as  the 
European  nations  treat  their  prisoners  of  war. 


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THE 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


PART  I. 


On  human  kind  when  pitying  heav’n  survey’d. 

The  iron  hand  of  stern  Affliction  laid; 

When  toil  and  sorrow  all  their  powers  combin’d, 

To  crush  the  body,  and  o’erwhelm  the  mind; 

From  what  blest  source  was  then  ordain’d  to  flow, 
The  soothing  cordial  of  the  deepest  wo ! 

From  thee,  sweet  Friendship!  from  thy  magic  smile, 
Then  flow’d  the  power  each  sorrow  to  beguile; 

The  wounds  of  pain  and  fortune  to  repair, 

And  smooth  the  passage  through  a  life  of  care ! 

’Tis  yonder  sun,  when  blooms  the  beauteous  Spring, 
That  bids  the  vallies  smile,  the  woodlands  sing; 

When  summer  scenes  their  splendid  charms  display, 
He  gives  effulgence  to  the  ardent  day; 


8 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


And  he,  when  Autumn’s  mellow  stores  appear, 
Affords  the  bounties  of  the  ripen’d  year; 

From  him  proceeds,  when  wintry  blasts  alarm, 

What  power  still  aged  nature  has  to  charm ! 

Thus  Friendship  bids  the  days  of  childhood'smile , 
With  many  a  soften’d  scene,  and  artless  wile; 

And  when  the  warmth  of  youthful  vigor  glows, 
Affection’s  sympathising  throb  bestows; 

And  yields  each  joy  that  in  the  bosom  blooms, 

When  the  ripe  mind  its  mellow’d  form  assumes; 

And  in  that  season,  when  to  hoary  years. 

No  glowing  scene  of  gay  delight  appears; 

No  charms  are  felt  but  what  from  Friendship  flow, 
The  glorious  sun  of  human  life  below! 

Dire  was  the  hour  when  shuddering  nature  saw, 
The  first  sad  breach  e’er  made  in  Friendship’s  law ! 
The  world  still  smil’d,  with  boundless  charms  in  store. 
And  man  was  blest,  though  Eden  was  no  more ! 

For  sweet  affection  led  him  on  the  way, 

And  cloth’d  in  beauty  each  succeeding  day; 

Till  Abel’s  blood  made  heavenly  vengeance  glow, 
And  show’d  that  Friendship  had  on  earth  a  foe ! 

Till  then  fell  not  the  curse  of  guilt  on  man. 

And  first  from  Friendship’s  wounds,  mortality  began. 

O !  with  what  pangs  the  father  of  our  race. 
Bewail’d  his  own,  and  nature’s  dire  disgrace ! 
e<  My  son,”  he  cried,  “  my  righteous  Abel  bleeds, 

“  Slain  by  his  sire’s,  and  by  his  brother’s  deeds!- 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


9 


“  Ah !  this  is  death !  that  death  which  heaven  hath  sworn, 
“  For  my  accurst  transgression  must  be  borne! 

“  On  me  alone  should  all  the  vengeance  fall; 

“  But  O !  ’twill  crush  my  children ! — crush  them  all !” 

He  said,  and  sunk  in  agonizing  grief, 

The  first  of  human  sinners,  not  the  chief! 

Friendship!  to  thee,  unsullied  joys  belong, 

Joys  that  can  bless  ev’n  heaven’s  immortal  throng. 

In  those  bright  realms,  so  rich  in  every  joy, 

That  Hope  herself  would  but  the  bliss  annoy, 

(For  Hope  where’er  she  comes,  however  fair. 

Still  Fear,  th’  attendant  of  her  path,  is  there) 

Angelic  hosts  affection’s  raptures  prove, 

And  holy  anthems  tell  their  mutual  love ! 

Fair  friendship  binds  the  whole  celestial  frame, 

For  Love  in  heaven  and  Friendship  are  the  same. 

Stem  of  delight!  endearing  is  thy  power, 

When  vernal  age  first  spreads  its  op’ning  flower; 

In  that  soft  season,  when  to  nature  new, 

Each  passing  scene  delights  the  wond’ring  view; 
When  young  ideas  fill  the  vacant  mind. 

With  sweet  surprise,  and  pleasure  unconfin’d; 

When  restless  thought  to  quick  transition  prone. 
Impatient  roams  till  every  charm  be  known; 

Thy  smiles  alone  the  truant  can  arrest, 

And  fix  some  young  associate  in  the  breast. 

Yes,  first  of  all  the  heav’n-descended  train 
Of  man’s  superior  joys,  begins  thy  reign, 


10 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


Fair  Friendship!  sovereign  of  the  soothing  sway, 
That  charms  our  toils,  and  drives  our  cares  away. 
For  long  ere  Love,  with  raptures  ne’er  express’d, 
And  blissful  anguish,  fires  the  throbbing  breast; 

Ere  Fancy’s  pencil  paints  a  scene  more  gay. 

Than  that  experienc’d  in  the  blest  to-day; 

Ere  Hope’s  fond  visions  to  the  mind  reveal 
Those  future  raptures  that  it  ne’er  shall  feel. 

Like  midnight  meteors,  with  deceitful  ray, 

That  promise  morn,  when  morn  is  far  away; 

Ere  mem’ry’s  wand,  with  backward  touch  benign, 
Can  make  the  past  with  lovelier  lustre  shine; 

Ere  ‘Wisdom,  like  the  polar  star,  can  guide. 
Towards  the  path  where  lasting  joys  abide; 

Ere  bright  Religion,  with  persuasive  voice. 

Can  make  th’  unfading  bliss  of  heaven  our  choice; 
Congenial  Friendship  brings  the  potent  spell, 

To  bid  the  young  affections  softly  swell. 

The  sweets  of  fond  society  impart. 

Whose  cordial  balm  exhilarates  the  heart ! 

And  say,  when  age,  with  retrospective  view, 
Surveys  the  tender  years  when  life  was  new. 

When  the  young  mind  felt  e’en  this  world  could  bless, 
Nor  wish’d  a  happier  Eden  to  possess; 

Of  all  the  joys  in  mem’ry’s  magic  store, 

So  oft  with  fond  endearment  counted  o’er, 

What  can  the  heart  to  equal  rapture  warm, 

With  those  to  which  affection  gave  the  charm ! 

How  warmly  cherish’d,  with  a  deep  regret. 

Our  heart’s  first  friend,  whom  we  can  ne’er  forget! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


13 


Still  lightly  o’er  the  lawn  we  see  him  bound, 
And  with  exulting  bosom  leap  the  mound — 

We  glow  to  think,  when  rural  feats  were  done. 
With  him  the  applause,  alternately,  we  won. 
Though  in  the  race  victorious  he  was  nam’d, 

We  justly  still  the  prize  of  combat  claim’d; 

Still  to  a  greater  height  we  urg’d  the  ball. 
Though  he  with  surer  aim  could  meet  its  fall. — 
Oft  down  the  glen  together  have  we  stray’d, 

To  watch  our  snares  for  fawns  or  foxes  laid; 

Oft  spent  whole  days  in  consultation  deep. 

How  most  secure  the  linnet’s  nest  to  keep, 

Or  joy’d  the  woodland  echoes  to  awake. 

Or  rous’d  the  victim  plover  from  the  brake. 

Or  mark’d  the  hawk,  the  pirate  of  the  sky, 

And  let  the  leaden  vengeance  on  him  fly. — 

Oft  by  the  river’s  brink  we  took  our  stand, 

And  drew  the  agitated  fry  to  land; 

Or  trimm’d  our  bounding  skiff"  with  easy  sail, 
And  lightly  scudded  with  a  pleasant  gale; 

Or  thence  retiring  to  domestic  bowers, 

While  young  Imagination  charm’d  the  hours, 
Arabian  genii  all  their  terrors  spread. 

And  wonder  swell’d  our  bosoms  while  we  read ; 
Or  haply,  with  a  nobler  flame  we  glow, 

Inspir’d  to  bold  adventure  by  De  Foe ! 

How  brightly  bloom’d  the  interesting  isle, 

And  danger  charmed  us  with  attractive  smile. 

O!  days  belov’d,  when  innocence  and  joy, 
The  bosom  fill’d,  and  fill’d  without  alloy! 

B 


14 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


No  grief  we  mourn’d  on  stern  misfortune  built. 

We  knew  no  sorrow,  for  we  knew  no  guilt. 

O!  recollection’s  sweetest,  fairest  charm, 

That  still  has  power  each  languid  pulse  to  warm; 
Without  thy  bright  invigorating  ray, 

Life  would  be  lassitude  and  dull  decay. 

When  I  forget  thee,  O,  my  earliest  friend, 

Joy  shall  be  lost,  and  mem’ry  at  an  end! 

Though  years  of  toil  have  numerous  crept  between 
Those  glowing  days,  and  age’s  tasteless  scene; 
Though  sever’d  now  by  many  a  different  clime, 
Gay,  fertile  vale,  and  hoary  mount  sublime; 
Though  doom’d  by  fate,  perhaps,  to  meet  no  more, 
And  live  again  our  days  of  pleasure  o’er; 

Still,  when  my  daily  prayers  to  heaven  ascend, 

I  beg  for  blessings  on  my  earliest  friend; 

While  mem’ry  owns  that  Friendship’s  smile  bestows 
The  brightest  charm  her  magic  mirror  shows. 

Angelic  soother  of  the  troubled  breast ! 

Thy  smiles  can  charm  the  fiercest  grief  to  rest. 
When  struck  to  earth  by  stern  misfortune’s  blow, 
O’erwhelmed  with  anguish,  penury  and  wo. 

All  comfort  fled,  e’en  flatterers  disappear; 

Ah !  then  how  sweet  thy  whisperings  to  our  ear ! 
Thy  gentle  voice  can  bid  our  spirits  rise. 

And  Hope’s  blest  visions  brighten  in  our  eyes; 

And  like  the  beacon’s  light  that  gleams  afar, 

To  midnight  sailors  as  their  guardian  star, 

Thy  sympathising  glance  dispels  our  fears, 

And  safe  to  port  our  found’ring  vessel  steers. 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


To  all  the  depths  of  misery  consigned, 

Wounded  in  body,  agoniz’d  in  mind, 

Montalbot  lay,  the  victim  of  despair. 

And  wish’d  the  grave  would  give  him  refuge  there. 

On  Lifley’s  bank,  the  rural  mansion  stood, 

Fair  was  the  vale,  romantic  was  the  wood; 

Sublime  the  mountain,  and  the  hand  of  taste. 

With  fairy  loveliness  the  landscape  grac’d. 
Respected,  affluent,  blest  with  letter’d  ease. 

And  cheerful  mind  that  taught  each  toil  to  please, 
A  sweet  and  virtuous  fair  his  wishes  crown’d, 

With  mutual  love  in  blissful  union  bound; 

And  in  two  lovely  babes,  his  raptur’d  heart 
Enjoy’d  a  charm  the  world  could  ne’er  impart; — 
But,  ah!  too  soon  misfortune’s  tempest  rose. 

And  bade  the  scene  of  short  enjoyment  close ! 
Rebellion’s  bloody  standard  rear’d  his  head. 

And  death  and  desolation  round  him  spread. 

Before  the  eve  of  that  eventful  day, 

Whose  dawn  had  found  thee  happy,  fond,  and  gay. 
Spouse  of  Montalbot!  how  thy  bosom  bled. 

As  ruin,  death,  and  horror  round  thee  spread! 

In  vain  thy  husband’s  high-born  courage  rose, 

To  check  the  whelming  tide  of  ruffian  foes — 

Vain  were  thy  tears  and  loveliness  to  melt 
Barbarian  hearts  that  pity  never  felt. 

The  spreading  flames  of  ruin  rag’d  around, 

And  devastation  smok’d  along  the  ground; 


16 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


And,  streaming  by  the  faggot’s  blaze,  is  shown 
That  blood  to  thee  far  dearer  than  thy  own ! 

With  frantic  speed  thy  close  embrace  repress’d 
The  life-stream  issuing  from  thy  husband’s  breast, 
And  with  an  agony  of  zeal  to  save, 

Strain’d  to  thy  bosom,  held  him  from  the  grave ! 

But,  ah!  fond  woman,  what  avails  thy  care, 
Think’st  thou  thy  barbarous  foes  e’er  learn’d  to  spare ! 
Montalbot,  know,  it  is  their  stern  decree, 
To-morrow  dies  upon  the  gallows-tree ! 

Wilt  thou  implore  his  life  ?  Ah !  will  thy  tears 
Persuade  the  stubborn  heart  a  savage  bears ! 

Stern  to  their  purpose,  lo!  thy  foes  remain, 

And  love,  and  grief,  and  beauty  plead  in  vain! 

Lo!  where  Montalbot,  welt’ring  in  his  gore, 

Lies  on  a  wretched  hovel’s  swampy  floor; 

His  bosom  stung  with  horror,  pain,  and  grief, 

He  longs  for  death  to  give  his  woes  relief; 

When  Connor  came,  who  had  that  day  afar. 

In  other  fields  led  forth  the  rebel  war. 

At  his  command,  the  captive  was  unbound, 

His  frame  refresh’d,  and  sooth’d  was  every  wound. 
He  then  with  sympathising  voice  began, 

To  speak  of  comfort  to  the  wretched  man: 

“  Arise,  Montalbot,  let  thy  griefs  be  o’er. 

No  hostile  hand  shall  dare  to  harm  thee  more; 
What  I  command,  my  followers  obey, 

Appointed  o’er  their  hardy  ranks  to  sway — 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP.  1  7 

Think  not,  because  my  hostile  banners  wave 
Their  emerald  bloom  proud  England’s  pow’r  to  brave. 
Nor  think,  because  to  patriot  feelings  true, 

Bold  insurrection’s  sword  I  strongly  drew. 

And  fir’d  with  zeal  my  country’s  wrongs  to  right, 

I  lead  her  valiant  natives  to  the  fight, 

That  e’er  those  happier  times  I  shall  forget. 

When  first  in  scenes  of  youthful  joy  we  met, 

When  in  Eblana’s  academic  shade, 

Through  fragrant  bowers  of  classic  lore  we  stray’d; 

Or  in  those  paths  where  science  strews  her  fruit, 

With  glowing  bosoms  bent  our  fond  pursuit, 

And  strove  with  all  the  energy  of  youth. 

To  shine  in  knowledge,  manliness,  and  truth. 

Oh!  by  those  scenes  we  ne’er  shall  witness  more, 

By  that  perpetual  friendship  which  we  swore ! 

No  party  rage,  no  warmth  of  public  strife, 

Shall  dare  attack  thy  property  or  life. 

Thy  Connor’s  arm  protection  will  afford. 

And  happiness  to  thee  shall  be  restor’d. 

Oh!  if  my  friend  our  patriot  cause  would  join, 

What  glory  should  be  his,  what  pleasure  mine ! 

But  here  no  force  thy  sentiments  shall  move. 

Be  free  to  act  as  conscience  may  approve.” 

“  My  generous  friend!”  the  rescu’d  captive  said, 

“  By  warmth  of  heart  to  error’s  path  betray’d, 

Oh !  that  I  could  conviction’s  light  bestow 
On  thee,  to  whom  the  boon  of  life  I  owe! 

Oh !  that  I  could  from  wisdom  snatch  a  ray, 

To  lure  thee  from  the  dangers  of  thy  way ! — • 
b  2 


18 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


But  while  with  gratitude  ray  bosom  glows. 

It  is  not  mine  thy  errors  to  expose. — 

Yet  should  misfortune’s  clouds  around  thee  low’r, 
May  I  be  near  to  shield  thee  in  that  hour ! 

When  vict’ry  smiles  on  England’s  sacred  cause. 
And  thou  be  yielded  to  offended  laws, 

On  me,  on  me  thy  safety  shall  depend. 

Our  king  shall  know  thou  wert  Montalbot’s  friend !” 

Ere  twice  yon  moon  her  fullness  had  attain’d, 

At  judgment’s  bar  young  Connor  was  arraign’d: 

His  crimes  are  prov’d;  the  awful  hour  is  nigh, 
Decreed  by  rigid  law  that  he  shall  die. 

That  hour  is  come,  tears  moisten  every  face, 
Death’s  slow  procession  moves  with  solemn  pace; 
The  muffl’d  music  stops  its  mournful  sound. 

And  num’rous  guards  the  fatal  tree  surround •* — 
When  mark!  yon  horseman  flashes  o’er  the  plain, 
Less  swift  the  tempest  hurries  o’er  the  main; 

The  foaming  steed  now  rushes  through  the  crowd, 
The  agitated  rider  shouts  aloud — 

“  A  pardon  to  the  pris’ner! — to  my  friend!” 

At  once  the  air  a  thousand  voices  rend — 
Montalbot  swift  displays  with  joyful  face, 

The  pleasing  instrument  of  royal  grace; 

And  breathless,  hastes  the  captive  to  untie. 

Falls  on  his  neck,  and  sobs  aloud  for  joy. 

“  I  thank  thee,  heaven!  the  trying  hour  is  o’er, 
The  storm  is  weather’d,  may  it  rage  no  more! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


19 


Restor’d  to  life,  oh!  never -let  us  part, 

Of  all  my  friends  thou  dearest  to  my  heart ! 

Let  us  retire  afar  from  party  strife , 

To  the  deep  vale  of  sweet  domestic  life; 

And  while  along  the  stream  of  time  we  glide, 

Oh !  may  the  chart  of  wisdom  be  our  guide ! 

And  while  we  glow  with  patriotic  zeal, 

As  Erin’s  children  should  for  Erin’s  weal, 

May  our  example  to  her  sons  display, 

The  blessings  to  be  found  in  virtue’s  way ! 

Oh!  may  we  feel  that  as  our  years  increase, 

Our  best  ambition  is  the  love  of  peace, 

That  patriotism  when  rightly  understood. 

Is  that  warm  feeling  for  our  neighbour’s  good, 
Which  like  the  fertilizing  show’rs  of  Spring, 

That  bid  the  blooming  vales  with  gladness  ring, 
With  active  influence  prospers  all  around, 

And  is  with  blessings  of  the  poor  man  crown’d; 

And  feels  from  Friendship’s  generous  bosom  rise, 
The  best  and  noblest  joys  the  world  supplies !” 

From  thy  blest  smile  what  soothing  pow’r  can  flow. 
Attendant  angel  on  the  couch  of  wo! 

On  yon  poor  wand’rer  in  a  foreign  land, 

Lo !  harsh  disease  has  laid  his  torturing  hand; 

Each  limb  is  rack’d  with  unremitting  pain, 

And  quenchless  fever  fires  his  throbbing  brain; 
While  on  his  wishes  none  are  found  to  wait, 

Save  hireling  strangers  careless  of  his  fate. 

Should  he,  even  he,  while  sinking  in  despair, 
Remember  home  and  all  his  friendships  there. 


20 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


The  pleasing  thought  can  calm  the  fever’s  rage. 
Sweet  hope  inspire,  and  agony  assuage. 

But,  oh!  if  fortune  to  his  ear  should  send, 

Th’  endearing  accents  of  a  youthful  friend, 

The  well-known  voice  would  drive  his  cares  away, 
Bid  pleasure’s  smile  o’er  all  his  features  play. 
Arrest  the  progress  of  destroying  pain, 

And  snatch  the  victim  back  to  life  again ! 

Or  if  the  winged  soul  be  doom’d  to  fly 
The  troubled  precincts  of  mortality; 

While  o’er  her  brittle  tenement  of  clay. 

She  fondly  lingers,  anxious  to  delay; 

For  the  dear  objects  of  her  hopes  and  fears, 

The  loves  and  friendships  of  her  busy  years, 

She  feels  with  magic  force  around  her  twin’d. 

And  sighs — compell’d  to  leave  them  all  behind. 

Oh !  if  some  friend  that  gave  her  youth  delight. 
Should  chance  e’en  now  to  bless  her  anxious  sight, 
Some  friend,  who  absent  long,  and  far  remote. 

Had  ne’er  by  warm  affection  been  forgot; 

What  pleasure  to  her  parting  flight  is  given ! 
Rejoic’d  she  quits  the  world  and  mounts  to  heaven ! 

Thus  Israel,  who  with  unavailing  tears, 

Had  spent  a  length  of  melancholy  years; 

While  Joseph’s  long-lost  form  his  fancy  drew. 
Grief  was  the  only  luxury  he  knew ! 

Nought  could  the  sorrows  of  his  soul  abate. 

His  child  was  gone,  uncertain  was  his  fate! 


PLEASURES  OP  FRIENDSHIP. 


21 


With  hopes  and  fears  in  long  continued  strife. 

The  mournful  patriarch  clung  to  wretched  life: 
When  heaven  at  lengh  restor’d  the  darling  boy, 
And  his  heart  flow’d  with  gratitude  and  joy; 

“  My  God,”  he  cried,  “  now  let  thy  will  be  done, 
I  die  contented — I  have  seen  my  son !” 

Ah !  still  when  secret  sorrows  rend  the  heart, 
When  hidden  passions  sting  with  bitter  smart. 

Or  sharp  remorse  for  deeds  or  thoughts  conceal’d. 
Bids  all  the  soul  to  inward  torture  yield, 

The  friendly  bosom  that  can  share  our  grief. 

Is  the  best  sanctuary  to  yield  relief, 

To  quench  the  fiery  aspect  of  despair, 

And  ease  the  lab’ring  mind  of  half  its  care ! 

When  the  warm  glow  of  love’s  delicious  fires, 
The  ardent  soul  of  melting  youth  inspires; 

Ere  yet  he  dares  with  trembling  heart  disclose. 

To  beauty’s  ear  the  fervour  of  his  woes; 

When  to  the  covert  of  the  woods  he  flies. 

In  nature’s  silent  shades  to  vent  his  sighs; 

Or  on  the  brink  of  some  lone  stream  reclin’d, 
Breathes  on  the  whisp’ring  gale  his  bursting  mind; 
Or  haply  while  around  from  every  spray. 

The  woodland  warblers  pour  th’  enamour’d  lay. 
With  kindred  flame,  he  imitates  the  strain, 

And  woos  the  willing  muse  to  sooth  his  pain; 

Oh!  then  how  sweet,  if  to  some  friendly  ear, 
Which  with  soft  sympathy  his  tale  will  hear, 


22 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


He  can  reveal  the  sorrows  of  his  breast. 

And  lull  with  fond  complaints  his  griefs  to  rest ! 

Or  he  who  yielding  in  temptation’s  day, 

Had  in  the  paths  of  sinners  gone  astray, 

Awakes  at  length,  his  guilty  course  restrains, 

And  the  great  conquest  of  his  passions  gains; 
Should  he,  while  time  with  constant  step  proceeds. 
Still  sicken  at  the  mem’ry  of  his  deeds. 

Nor  find  in  penitence  a  suasive  balm, 

The  stormy  feelings  of  his  soul  to  calm, 

Then  let  some  friend,  with  potent  aid,  impart 
The  boon  of  comfort  to  his  wounded  heart. 

And  bring  a  draught  divine  from  mercy’s  store, 

To  bid  the  stricken  conscience  grieve  no  more ! 

When  youth  engag’d  in  education’s  cares, 

To  act  his  part  in  future  life  prepares. 

If  manly  wishes  in  his  bosom  swell. 

In  every  bright  attainment  to  excel, 

He  soon  selects,  to  raise  his  flagging  pow’rs, 

Some  fond  companion  of  his  studious  hours. 

Whose  learning,  genius,  conduct  he  admires, 

And  warm  for  equal  excellence  aspires; 

While  noble  pride  and  emulative  zeal, 

Bid  his  friend’s  mind  a  rival  ardour  feel; 

And  each  a  lov’d  and  bright  example  views, 

That  gilds  the  course  his  kindled  soul  pursues. 

No  jealous  hatred  in  their  bosoms  burns. 

They  love,  admire,  and  emulate  by  turns; 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


23 


And  when  at  last  they  try  the  stormy  world, 

The  chart  of  knowledge  to  their  eyes  unfurl’d, 
They  heave  a  sigh  of  manly  grief  to  part, 

And  bear  through  life  the  friendship  of  the  heart. 

Come,  Emulation!  on  thy  dazzling  wing, 

Thy  fav’rite  child,  Improvement,  with  thee  bring; 
And  while  mankind  her  brilliant  acts  admire, 

Do  thou  proclaim  that  Friendship  is  her  sire. 
Inspir’d  by  thee,  with  ardent  mind  he  strove 
To  imitate  thy  deeds — and  gain’d  thy  love ! 
Together  join’d,  ye  dare  the  heaviest  toil 
Requir’d  by  Science  on  her  sternest  soil: 

Whether  with  Newton  to  the  heavens  ye  soar. 
And  ranging  boundless  nature  o’er  and  o’er, 
Detect  the  laws  that  own  creative  might. 

That  wing  the  comet  for  his  airy  flight, 

That  rule  the  expanse  of  planetary  space. 

And  bind  the  circling  orbits  in  their  place ! 

Or  thence  descending,  let  the  Swedish  sage. 

In  fields  of  fragrant  flowers  your  thoughts  engage, 
With  pleasing  care  their  characters  are  knowh, 
And  all  their  charms  and  virtues  made  your  own ! 

Perhaps,  attracted  by  the  arts,  ye  stray 
To  Rosa’s  shades,  or  Titian’s  brighter  ray; 

And  pause  where’er  the  human  face  appears 
Array’d  in  mimic  smiles,  or  bath’d  in  tears; 

O!  seize  the  charms  bright  Fancy’s  colours  give, 
And  bid  the  canvass,  warm  with  nature,  live! 


24 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


Or  seek  yon  ancient  dome*  whose  roof  beneath. 
The  marble  seems  in  human  form  to  breathe. 

And  there  inspire  a  throb  to  genius  true, 

And  bid  your  chissel  be  immortal  too ! 

Lo !  to  your  eyes  the  chemist’s  art  undfolds 
The  wondrous  secrets  nature’s  bosom  holds ! 

At  your  command  expands  her  hidden  store, 

And  treasures  spring  the  world  ne’er  saw  before ! 
Her  laws,  obedient  to  your  potent  skill. 

Perform  a  new  creation  at  your  will; 

While  men  admire,  as  your  bright  arts  disclose 
The  mighty  pow’r  the  arm  of  science  knows ! 

Now,  warm  with  partriotic  fervour,  try 
To  plead  your  country’s  cause  with  energy; 

The  public  voice  will  hail  your  bright  career. 

And  senates  listen  with  delighted  ear. 

Or  learn  the  arts  triumphant  fields  have  won, 

And  rival  Europe’s  victor,  Wellington! 

Or  for  sublimer  themes  will  ye  prepare, 

And  make  the  immortal  souls  of  men  your  care? 
Your  heaven-born  eloquence  shall  strongly  move 
The  wand’ring  heart,  and  fix  its  views  above; 

On  darkling  spirits  pour  celestial  day, 

And  warm  the  troubled  soul  with  mercy’s  ray ! 

The  sceptic’s  breast  with  Christian  zeal  shall  glow. 
And  stubborn  bosoms  sweet  compassion  know. 


*  Westminster  Abbey. 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


25 


As  from  your  lips  decends  the  god-like  strain; 

And  Kirwin’s  mighty  pow’r  is  felt  again ! 

At  silent  midnight’s  meditative  hour, 

The  watchful  seaman  feels  thy  cheering  pow’r. 
Inspiring  Friednship !  as  he  views  from  far. 
Heaven’s  azure  circle  gemm’d  with  many  a  star — 
Yon  wand’ring  orb,  night’s  cold  but  lovely  queen, 
Illumes  the  sky,  and  gilds  the  wat’ry  scene; 

The  stately  vessel  spreads  the  waving  sail. 

To  catch  each  impulse  of  th’  unsteady  gale: 

In  thoughtful  mood  reclining  o’er  her  side. 

He  views  her  progress  through  th’  expanding  tide, 
And  sighs  to  think,  as  o’er  each  wave  she  moves. 
She  bears  him  farther  still  from  those  he  loves! 

But  yielding  soon  to  Fancy’s  sweet  command, 

He  visits  once  again  his  native  land; 

Again  the  haunts  of  youthful  pleasure  views, 

Again  the  throb  of  past  delight  renews ! 

Again  the  fields  of  rural  sports  are  seen, 

The  blooming  meadows,  and  the  smiling  green, 

The  sacred  walk  to  Friendship  long  consign’d. 

The  spot  where  love  first  fir’d  his  youthful  mind ! 

Lo!  now  the  sire,  who  taught  his  youth,  appears, 

And,  hark!  his  mother’s  honour’d  voice  he  hears! 

The  brothers,  sisters,  that  his  childhood  blest. 

Once  more  are  welcom’d,  and  once  more  caress’d; 

The  female  charmer  of  his  soul,  again 

Is  to  his  bosom  clasp’d  with  raptur’d  strain; 
c 


26 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


With  warmth  he  pours  the  fullness  of  his  heart, 
Renews  his  vows,  and  pledges  ne’er  to  part. 

But  oh!  what  holier  feeling  can  allure. 

Less  warm,  perhaps,  than  love,  but,  ah!  more  pure. 
To  seek  the  well-known  cottage  which  contains 
The  friend  long  faithful  to  his  joys  and  pains ! 

That  fond  embrace ,  how  ardent  and  sincere ! 

Those  looks,  that  voice  of  confidence,  how  dear ! 
Truth’s  purest  throb  within  his  bosom  glows, 

And  the  full  measure  of  his  feelings  flows, 

As  all  disclos’d  to  friendship’s  secret  ear, 

He  tells  each  joy  and  grief,  each  hope  and  fear; 
And  thus  unburden’d,  feels  prepar’d  to  try 
Life’s  rugged  road  with  greater  buoyancy. 

O !  as  along  life’s  stormy  vale  I  stray, 

Be  Friendship  still  companion  of  my  way ! 

Then  when  temptation  shall  her  arts  prepare. 

And  spread  her  golden  nets  my  feet  to  snare, 

My  watchful  guide  shall  warn  me  of  her  toils. 

And  safe  convey  me  from  the  syren’s  wiles. 

Or  should  misfortune’s  harsher  hand  employ 
Those  darts  that  wound  the  soul,  and  peace  destroy. 
With  loss  of  property,  or  health  distress’d, 

Or  by  the  malice  of  mankind  oppress’d, 

To  thy  sweet  pow’r,  when  whelming  ills  invade, 

Oh!  blissful  Friendship!  then  I  fly  for  aid; 

For  thou  art  true,  though  all  the  world  deceive, 

Still  wise  to  counsel,  ready  to  relieve, 

Design’d  by  Heav’n,  from  whom  thy  virtues  flow. 
The  chief  ambassador  of  good  below ! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


In  those  bright  islands  of  the  Western  main. 
Where  Europe’s  sons,  allur’d  by  thirst  of  gain. 
With  vent’rous  spirit  tempt  the  torrid  sky. 

Rise  swift  to  fortune,  sicken,  faint,  and  die, 

The  Negro,  see !  by  trade’s  unfeeling  pow’r, 

Torn  from  his  home,  and  sweet  paternal  bow’r; 
Where  issuing  oft  he  shone  with  manly  grace. 

And  led  his  fellow  negroes  to  the  chace ! 

Or  when,  his  country’s  battles  to  sustain. 

His  arm  was  wanted  in  the  hostile  plain. 

He  led  her  warlike  tribes,  a  patriot  band, 

Engag’d  her  foes,  and  drove  them  from  the  land! 

O !  then  what  rapture  blest  his  high  career. 

When  burst  the  song  of  vict’ry  on  his  ear ! 

When  maidens  prais’d  the  deeds  his  arm  had  done, 
And  crown’d  him  with  the  wreath  his  valour  won  ? 
Ah !  little  thought  Laongo’s  chief  that  day, 

That  bound  with  chains,  in  regions  far  away. 

Those  buoyant  limbs  should  e’er  the  scourge  sustain, 
Those  sinewy  arms  increase  a  miser’s  gain ! 

That  form,  dispos’d  in  nature’s  hardiest  mood. 

To  range  the  forest,  or  to  stem  the  flood; 

That  free-born  mind  of  bold  and  generous  frame, 
That  keenly  felt  ambition’s  noble  flame, 

Should  toil  to  gratify  a  stranger’s  will, 

Or  bow’d  to  earth  the  trembling  task  fulfil ! 

Where  yok’d  with  brutes  he  works  the  stubborn  soil, 
Or  sick  and  fainting,  respite  begs  from  toil; 

E’en  there,  in  ling’ring  misery’s  last  excess, 

Can  Friendship  come  with  sovereign  pow’r  to  bless=-T- 


28 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


For,  lo!  he  marks  among  the  afflicted  train. 

One  fellow-suff’rer  from  Laongo’s  plain, 

Whose  tears  with  his  in  sympathy  can  flow. 
Whose  ear  will  listen  to  his  plaint  of  wo, 

Whose  heart  deplores  the  sorrows  of  his  chief. 

And  while  he  shares  them,  longs  to  give  relief! 

In  converse  oft,  when  daily  toil  they  end. 

How  cheering  to  the  soul  the  hours  they  spend ! 
How  oft  they  tell  the  ever-pleasing  tale. 

Of  times  long  past  in  fair  Laongo’s  vale ! 

The  chase,  the  feast,  the  song  are  brought  to  mind, 
The  loves,  the  joys,  and  friendships  left  behind; 
Mem’ry’s  sweet  opiate  sooths  them  to  repose, 

And  into  short  oblivion  lulls  their  woes. 

Affection  thus  can  soften  every  pain, 

Grief  rends  the  heart,  which  Friendship  binds  again. 

So  nature,  when  in  wintry  fetters  bound, 

The  streams,  the  hills,  and  vallies  frozen  round. 
Feels  the  warm  influence  of  the  Southern  wind. 
And  heaven’s  meridian  rays  her  chains  unbind. 
With  sudden  life,  earth’s  op’ning  charms  appear. 
And  spring  to  hail  the  renovating  year. 

But,  ah!  short-liv’d  the  glories  they  assume. 

The  North  again  blows  wild,  and  nips  their  bloom! 
Again  submitting  to  th’  inclement  sky. 

They  feel,  they  shrink,  they  shiver,  and  they  die! 

In  fair  Europa’s  civiliz’d  domain, 

Where  learning,  arts,  and  arms  unrivall’d  reign. 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


29 


Is  there  no  gen’rous  pow’r  for  virtue  strong — 

O!  if  there  is,  why  does  it  sleep  so  long? 

When  her  lost  sons  in  wretched  thousands  lie, 
Beneath  the  murd’rous  Moor’s  barbarity; 

Or  where  fierce  Lybians,  with  fanatic  zeal, 

Apply  to  Christian  nerves  the  torturing  steel ! 
Hark!  bound  and  buffetted,  in  yonder  walls. 

In  vain  yon  helpless  man  for  mercy  calls; 

He  writhes  in  agony  beneath  the  rod, 

Still  faithful  to  his  country,  and  his  God ! 

His  heart  may  burst,  his  flesh  consume  away. 

But  virtue  shall  survive  the  bitter  day! 

The  threats,  the  stripes,  the  tortures,  he  disdains, 
Peace  dwells  within,  for  conscience  still  remains! 
Lo !  here,  where  every  terror  is  array’d, 

Where  nature  shrinks,  and  courage  is  dismay’d, 
Blest  Friendship  comes,  and  on  seraphic  wing, 
The  unexpected  ransom  loves  to  bring. 

With  smiles  to  cheer  the  features  of  despair, 

And  ease  the  lacerated  heart  of  care ! 

So  Mercy’s  angel  flew  at  Heaven’s  command, 
To  bring  relief  to  Israel’s  sufl  ’ring  land — 

He  found  her  sunk  in  slavery’s  dark  abyss, 

And  wav’d  his  wand  her  sorrows  to  dismiss. 

Her  fallen  tribes  felt  courage  at  the  sight. 

And  rose  enthusiasts  for  their  country’s  right ! 
Their  bonds  were  burst,  their  tyrants  overthrown, 
And  Gideon’s  fiery  sword  triumphant  shone ! 
c  2 


so 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


Long,  hapless  Riley!  long  thy  bosom  bled, 

As  faint  and  weary  o’er  the  desert  led, 

The  savage  Arabs  urg’d  thy  painful  way, 

And  mock’d  thy  feeble  frame  that  begg’d  delay. 

How  flow’d  thy  anguish  at  th’  appalling  view. 

As  famine  daily  thinn’d  thy  wretched  crew! 

How  oft  for  death  thy  harrass’d  bosom  pray’d. 

As  to  the  dust  thy  sinking  soul  was  weigh’d ! 

Till  to  a  Briton’s  ear  thy  sorrows  came, 

And  on  his  heart  impress’d  a  brother’s  claim. — 

What  blissful  throbs  thy  grateful  bosom  knew. 

When  to  thy  aid  on  pity’s  wings  he  flew, 

And  bade,  with  gen’rous  warmth,  thy  suff  ’rings  end, 
And  hail’d  thee  as  a  freeman,  and  a  friend! 

Yes,  Britain’s  star  shall  shine  with  glorious  ray. 

As  when  avenging  Bona’s  bloody  day; 

When  Algiers  saw  destruction’s  arm  reveal’d. 

And  her  proud  battlements  constrain’d  to  yield; 

When  solemn  pledge  her  trembling  rulers  gave, 

Her  soil  no  more  should  hold  a  Christian  slave; 

When  issuing  forth  from  many  a  loathsome  cell. 

Her  famish’d  captives  bade  their  chains  farewell, 

And  turning  from  their  tyrants,  proud  no  more, 

Hail’d  their  deliv’rers  from  Britannia’s  shore, 

Whose  mighty  pow’r  had  broke  the  oppressor’s  chain, 
And  freedom,  life,  and  joy  restor’d  again! 

O!  with  what  joy  Pellew’s  brave  bosom  beat! 

What  thrilling  transport  ran  through  all  his  fleet ! 

As  from  their  decks  the  gallant  victors  see, 

The  tyrants  humbled,  and  the  captives  free! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


31 


Of  either  sex,  from  every  Christian  land. 

What  grateful  thousands  crowd  along  the  strand, 
Who  soon  on  board  are  welcomed  and  caress’d 
And  many  a  Briton  strains  a  Briton’s  breast! 

Thus  ardent  glows  the  grateful  virgin’s  mind, 
When  on  her  brave  deliv’rer’s  neck  reclined, 

She  thanks  that  courage  which  had  dar’d  the  wave, 
And  boldly  snatch’d  her  from  a  wat’ry  grave. 

Thus  thrills  with  ecstasy  the  raptur’d  swain. 

As  the  sweet  form  he  rescued  from  the  main, 

Is  closely  to  his  gallant  bosom  prest. 

And  warm  approving  conscience  makes  him  blest! 

May  Britain’s  cross,  the  world’s  transcendant  star. 
Still  in  the  cause  of  mercy  shine  afar ! 

Still  bid  mankind  their  fearless  tenor  keep, 

On  the  broad  land,  or  on  the  boundless  deep. 

And  cleanse  each  stain  her  own  bright  lustre  knows, 
India’s  deep  wrongs,  and  Afric’s  bitter  woes! 

And  tell  the  lawless  plund’rers  of  mankind, 

“  Here  end  your  course,  and  thither  be  confin’d!” 


END  OF  PART  FIRST- 


t  :%(i  iff,  ; 


.  i»  - 


« 

»  i  ■;  » 

•  -  .(>*,  I 

■  * 


■>'  ■  '  »  ;  . •  , . ; ... 


THE 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


PART  II. 


. 


. 


ANALYSIS  OF  PART  II 


The  assertion  so  frequently  made  by  cold-hearted  reasoners,  that  hu¬ 
man  nature  is  incapable  of  true  Friendship,  refuted.— Howard’s  philan¬ 
thropy.— Apostrophe  to  Charity.— The  painful  disappointments  often 
experienced  from  having  placed  confidence  in  false  friends,  no  proof 
against  the  existence  of  true  Friendship. — Examples  of  the  latter.— Por¬ 
trait  of  a  benevolent  clergyman,  deceased,  who  was  one  of  the  author’s 
earliest  friends,  and  his  instructor  in  the  ancient  languages. — Jonathan 
and  David.— Abraham’s  rescue  of  Lot.— Scipio’s  affection  for  Lelius.— 
The  unhappiness  of  the  marriage  state  when  the  union  of  the  parties  is 
not  cemented  by  Friendship.— Its  happiness  when  it  is  so  cemented.— 
The  pleasures  and  benefits  arising  from  this  passion  in  retirement,  espe¬ 
cially  when  accompanied  with  a  taste  for  literature. — In  such  a  state 
of  retirement,  benevolent  minds  are  apt  to  form  projects  of  improve¬ 
ment  without  sufficiently  estimating  the  obstacles  that  lie  in  the  way  of 
their  accomplishment,  when  they  are  often  saved  from  rash  under¬ 
takings  by  yielding  to  the  advice  of  an  intelligent  friend.— Some  subjects 
of  literary  recreation  in  which  retired  friends  are  apt  to  indulge.— 
Poetry.— History. — Religion. — The  powerful  effects  of  confidential  in¬ 
tercourse  with  an  intelligent  friend  in  relieving  the  terrors  which  arise 
in  the  minds  of  some  men  concerning  their  future  happiness,  instanced 
in  the  advantage  which  the  poet  Cowper  derived  from  his  intimacy  with 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Unwin. — The  work  of  man’s  redemption  is  introduced, it 
being  the  most  extensive  and  sublime  instance  of  Friendship  ever  ex¬ 
hibited. — The  poem  concludes  by  taking  notice  of  that  delightful  Friend¬ 
ship  which  will  forever  exist  among  the  blest  in  heaven. 


T  * 


v 

. 


THE 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


PART  11 


Hark!  with  a  sneer,  yon  misanthrope  exclaim 
All  men  are  false,  and  Friendship  but  a  name! 
That  wisdom  teaches  with  distrust  to  view 
The  world’s  regards  as  treach’rous  and  untrue; 
That  acts  of  Friendship  but  in  self  commence, 
That  sordid  motives  prompt  benevolence ! 

That  tender  pity,  and  those  feelings  strong, 
Which  rouse  the  patriot’s  arm,  the  poet’s  song; 
That  gen’rous  love  which,  in  the  tender  page, 
Enchants  the  mind  at  youth’s  unthinking  age; 

All  these,  when  truth  shall  scrutinize  severe, 
Shall  in  their  naked  hues  of  self  appear, 

Invented  merely  in  pedantic  schools, 

To  draw  the  minds  of  children  and  of  fools ! 

D 


38 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


O!  ye  to  nature’s  purest  joys  unknown. 

Can  ye  presume  to  judge,  with  hearts  of  stone, 

The  throbs  that  actuate  an  immortal  soul, 

O’er  which  eternal  wisdom  has  control ! 

Think  ye  the  stature  of  each  heaven-born  mind. 

To  the  mean  measure  of  your  own  confin’d ! 

As  well  the  sluggish  owl  that  courts  the  night, 
Might  check  the  eagle  in  his  sun-ward  flight, 
And^think,  because  to  him  it  is  not  given, 

No  nobler  bird  can  face  the  light  of  heaven! 

O!  cease,  ye  vile  injurious  sland’rers,  cease! 

Nor  boast  your  torpid  feelings  lull’d  to  peace! 

We  envy  not  your  clay-cold  hearts  that  know 
No  joy  in  rescuing  other  hearts  from  wo; 

We  envy  not  the  indurated  tone 

Of  feelings  touch’d  but  for  yourselves  alone. — 

In  vain  to  you,  from  nature’s  bounteous  hand, 

Your  fellow  men  are  blest  in  every  land: 

Not  e’en  the  joys  your  kindest  brethren  know. 

Can  bid  your  dull  sensations  warmly  glow. — 

Lost  to  delight  of  every  gen’rous  kind, 

The  glowing  fancy  and  enraptur’d  mind, 

Th’  ecstatic  throb  that  ardent  bosoms  warms, 
When  lovers  rush  into  each  other’s  arms. 

Or  pledging  oft  their  tender  vows  anew. 

In  melting  sorrow  bid  a  long  adieu! 

O!  lives  there,  heaven!  of  human  form  possess’d. 
Who  doubts  the  purity  of  Howard’s  breast 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


39 


Or  who  contemns  with  hateful,  impious  thought, 
The  man,  who  deeds  befitting  angels,  wrought! 

His  home,  his  ease,  his  pleasure,  he  forsakes, 
Around  the  world  th’  unwearied  journey  takes, 
While  heaven’s  own  ardours  in  his  bosom  glow, 

To  blunt  misfortune’s  poignancy  below. 

Lo!  where  in  poverty’s  neglected  cell, 

Pain,  want,  and  modesty  are  forc’d  to  dwell; 
Where  pride  disdains  to  stoop,  and  wealth  goes  by, 
With  mutter’d  insults,  or  averted  eye! 

Unhop’d-for  aid  his  willing  hand  bestows, 

And  health  and  comfort  reinstate  repose. 

Behold  in  prison  walls  where  guilt  is  laid, 

Where  all  the  forms  of  misery  invade, 

Where  wretched  felons  breathe  infectious  air, 

And  victims  of  oppression  find  despair ! 

Harsh  sounds  the  clanking  of  the  murd’rer’s  chain, 
With  groans,  and  loathsome  jests,  and  oaths  profane! 
There  see  the  messenger  of  eomfort  come. 

Despair  is  hush’d  and  blasphemy  is  dumb ! 

Health  takes  the  place  of  feebleness  and  pain, 

And  anarchy  submits  to  order’s  reign ! 

Repentant  scoffers  now  no  more  are  rude, 

And  harden’d  sinners  glow  with  gratitude ! 

Illustrious  pattern  for  the  friends  of  man ! 

Whose  stream  of  life  in  heav’nly  currents  ran; 

Long  shall  thy  name  by  nations  be  rever’d. 

To  every  feeling,  virtuous  heart  endear’d! 


40 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


When  kings  and  conq’rors  to  the  dust  consign’d, 
Shall  be  forgot,  or  hated  by  mankind, 

Thy  mem’ry  still,  as  age  to  age  succeeds, 

Shall  rouse  admiring  men  to  virtuous  deeds; 

And,  grav’d  on  every  noble  heart,  thy  name 
Shall  still  be  dear  to  charity  and  fame ! 

Whence  men  shall  learn  the  holiest  acts  below, 
To  seek  the  wretched  and  relieve  their  wo ! 

O!  Charity,  thou  lovely,  soft-ey’d  maid, 

Who  shun’st  the  haunts  of  riot  and  parade; 
Oppos’d  to  fashion,  luxury,  and  pride. 

Thou  cling’st  to  merit’s  unobtrusive  side ! 
Delighted  with  the  honest  mind  to  stray. 

Afar  from  dissipation’s  noisy  way, 

Afar  from  where  the  mercenary  train 
Of  av’rice  toil,  their  venal  ends  to  gain; 

Deep  in  the  covert  of  the  silent  shade, 

Thou  find’st  th’  unhappy,  and  thou  giv’st  them  aid 
O !  fairest  offspring  of  indulgent  heaven. 

To  wretched  sons  of  men  in  mercy  given ! 

From  thee  what  inexhausted  blessings  flow. 

To  equalize  the  wrongs  of  fate  below! 

The  social  throb,  the  tender-streaming  eye, 

The  cheering  voice,  the  heart-expressing  sigh, 
The  open  hand  the  needy  to  relieve, 

And  the  kind  heart  the  erring  to  forgive : 

O !  never  leave  the  world  while  it  contains 
One  breast  that  sorrows,  or  one  deed  that  pains ! 
One  anguish’d  breast,  by  harsh  oppression  torn , 

Or  griev’d  by  hate  or  taught  by  love  to  mourn. 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


41 


Be  still  our  guide  to  happier  realms  afar, 

Our  daily  pillar,  and  our  nightly  star! 

O!  melt  the  flinty  hearts  of  wealth  and  pride, 
Teach  them  the  tender  joys  by  thee  supplied; 
Teach  them  those  hostile  passions  to  control. 

That  shut  the  heart,  and  brutalize  the  soul; 

Close  those  foul  deeds  that  sordid  self  began, 

And  make  repentant  man,  the  friend  of  man! 

True;  oft  the  honest  mind  has  tried  in  vain, 
One  genuine  friend  among  mankind  to  gain ; 

Full  oft  the  false  profession  has  believ’d, 

And  still  when  most  assur’d  was  most  deceiv’d ! 
Has  felt  affection  with  neglect  repaid, 

Has  felt  the  bitter  pang  of  faith  betray’d, 

The  sland’rous  tongue,  the  harsh  insulting  mood, 
Th’  unfounded  charge,  the  base  ingratitude! 

Nay,  there  are  men,  most  curst  of  all  below, 
Who  but  assume  the  friend  to  act  the  foe ; 

Who,  like  the  viper  lurking  in  the  breast, 
Ensnare  our  peace,  then  stab,  and  stand  confest! 
From  such  may  guardian  spirits  keep  me  free. 
The  hell-born  sons  of  foul  hyprocrisy ! 

Of  all  the  evils  that  on  life  attend, 

The  most  heart-rending  is  a  treach’rous  friend. — 
For  O!  a  friend  whose  heart  is  true  and  warm, 
Life’s  purest  blessing,  and  its  dearest  charm. 
Proportion’d  to  the  joy  from  him  we  gain, 

Harsh  disappointment  brings  a  weight  of  pain! 

d2 


42 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


But,  ah!  profane  not  Friendship’s  sacred  name, 
Call  these  not  friends — of  spurious  brood  they  came 
Like  the  night-meteor  of  the  swampy  way, 

That  lures  the  wand’rer  with  deceitful  ray. 

To  his  fond  wish  some  cottage-light  it  seems, 

And  warm  with  hope  he  follows  where  it  gleams; 
But  sinks  at  once,  deserted  in  the  gloom 
Of  some  o’erwhelming  marsh,  to  meet  his  doom. 
So  baleful  Flattery — such  is  human  fate — 

May,  cloth’d  in  Friendship’s  garb,  usurp  his  seat, 
And  his  deceitful  front  in  smiles  array, 

Till  some  unguarded  victim  fall  his  prey! 

But  how  unwise,  ye  who  from  this  suppose. 
That  in  the  human  breast  no  friendship  glows! 

As  well,  false  reasoners!  might  ye  contest, 

That  genuine  love  ne’er  warm’d  the  virgin  breast. 
Because  a  heartless  race,  with  selfish  view, 

Have  boasted  transports  which  they  never  knew ! 
As  well  suppose  no  piety  on  earth, 

Because  the  world  has  given  an  atheist  birth! 

Or  that  no  age  can  faithfulness  afford, 

Because  a  Judas  once  betray’d  his  Lord! 

Yes,  there  are  men,  benevolence  may  trust, 
Whose  hearts  are  faithful,  and  whose  aims  are  just, 
Whose  liberal  minds  extend  to  all  the  race, 

Whose  acts  redeem  the  species  from  disgrace; 
And  who  enamour’d  of  fair  virtue’s  charms. 

With  warm  affection  spread  their  ardent  arms, 


pleasures  of  friendship. 


4 


To  all  whose  bosoms  can  with  their’s  combine, 

In  generous  acts,  and  charity  divine! 

Such  was  that  holy  man  when  here  below, 

Who  taught  my  heart  the  charms  of  lore  to  know, 
Taught  me  to  feel  the  pleasures  of  the  soul, 

And  bade  my  firstling  thoughts  in  numbers  roll. 

Oft  as  I  would,  in  short  excursions,  try 
On  half-fledg’d  wings  through  Fancy’s  realms  to  fly, 
My  feeble  flights  he  kindly  lov’d  to  aid, 

When  falling,  rais’d,  restor’d  me  when  I  stray’d. — 
Blest  shade !  now  thron’d  amidst  the  choirs  above, 

If  still  thy  once  lov’d  pupil  shares  thy  love. 

Transmit  a  portion  of  that  ray  divine. 

Which  warm’d  thy  soul,  and  bid  it  rest  on  mine! 

That  I,  like  thee,  may  draw  from  nature’s  page, 

A  poet’s  joy,  the  profit  of  a  sage; 

Like  thee,  may  seize  with  impulse  deep  and  strong, 
Those  magic  tints  that  charm  the  heart  in  song ! 

So  that  my  verse  a  power  like  thine  may  claim. 

To  fire  mankind  with  Friendship’s  noble  flame. 

And  teach  each  heart  what  oft  thou  taught’st  to  mine, 
That  love  of  human  kind  is  love  divine ! 

Forgive  my  tears  if  for  his  loss  they  flow. 

The  first  best  friend  I  ever  lost  below. — 

Long  shall  his  flock  with  pious  sorrow  mourn 
The  day  their  pastor  from  their  souls  was  torn : 

No  pert  theatric  orator  was  he, 

Nor  stuff’d  with  pride  of  stern  austerity; 


44 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


A  learn’d  divine,  meek,  simple,  and  sincere, 

He  preach’d  as  if  he  felt  our  souls  were  dear; 

His  style  impressive,  dignified  and  plain, 

With  pow’r  to  strengthen  faith,  and  guilt  restrain; 

He  strongly  felt  the  truths  he  would  impart. 

And  speaking  from  the  heart,  he  touch’d  the  heart! 
Each  word  inspir’d  some  conscience-stirring  thought, 
Or  warm’d  our  souls  within  us  while  he  taught. 

No  wealth,  no  grandeur,  rank,  nor  fashion’s  pride, 
Had  charms  to  draw  his  steady  mind  aside; 

With  equal  love  his  people  he  survey’d, 

Nor  knew  distinction  but  what  virtue  made. 

When  pious  fears  the  bosom  would  molest. 

When  pain  or  penury  would  probe  the  breast, 

His  sympathising  aid  was  ever  near, 

To  ease  the  anguish,  and  dispel  the  fear: 

The  troubled  soul  saw  heaven-born  Mercy  shine, 
And  felt  the  solace  of  the  word  divine ! 

Such  did  he  live,  our  blessing  to  the  end, 

Our  guide,  example,  minister,  and  friend! 

And  when  his  Master  bade  his  labours  close, 
Triumphant  on  salvation’s  wings  he  rose ! 

And  like  the  seer  who  died  on  Pisgah’s  hill, 

Though  now  he  speaks  no  more,  he  teaches  still; 
Teaches  from  sin’s  alluring  paths  to  fly, 

To  live  like  Christians,  and  like  saints  to  die! 

His  lov’d  example  fires  each  serious  breast, 

To  live  as  virtuous,  and  to  die  as  blest; 

Makes  bright  religion  pleasing  to  our  eyes, 

And  fills  our  souls  with  ardour  for  the  skies ! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


45 


Thus  ere  yon  golden  orb  that  rules  the  day. 
Withdraws  from  smiling  earth  his  fading  ray, 

He  lends  a  lustre  to  adorn  the  night. 

And  bids  the  gilded  moon  prolong  the  light: 

She  brightly  sheds  a  glory  not  her  own, 

And  light  still  lingers  though  its  lord  be  gone ! 

How  bright  the  royal  heir  of  Israel’s  throne, 

In  thy  blest  cause,  celestial  Friendship!  shone? 

When  wand’ring  David  on  his  aid  relied, 

He  cast  ambition’s  potent  claims  aside; 

No  selfish  feelings  in  his  breast  contend, 

He  joys  to  lose  his  crown  to  save  his  friend ! 

With  grief  he  sees  his  father’s  malice  rise, 

And  to  the  persecuted  hero  flies, 

And  gives  the  faithful  signal  of  alarm, 

Which  saves  the  brother  of  his  soul  from  harm> 

And  all  his  love  in  fond  remembrance  kept, 

For  Jonathan,  the  bard  of  Judah  wept. 

Pour’d  o’er  his  royal  harp  th’  elegiac  strain, 

And  mourn’d  his  dearest  friend  in  battle  slain. 

And  when  misfortune  overtook  his  race, 

He  sought,  he  found  them,  drew  them  from  disgrace; 
And  long  to  scenes,  endear’d  in  youth,  awake, 
Rewards  the  children  for  the  father’s  sake. 

O !  what  solicitude  thy  soul  imprest, 

What  generous  thirst  of  vengeance  fir’d  thy  breast, 
Thou  highly  favour’d  of  the  Power  divine, 

Great  patriarch !  father  of  the  Hebrew  line !  * 


46 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


When  first  the  mournful  tale  was  told  to  thee, 

Of  Siddim’s  fight,  and  Lot’s  captivity: 

Although  to  fighting  fields  unus’d,  unknown. 

With  sudden  valour  now  thy  spirit  shone ! 

Though  kings  combin’d  with  hosts  in  long  array, 

A  warlike  train,  were  vanquish’d  on  that  day; 

Yet  fearless  thou  the  victors  would’st  pursue — 

Thy  warriors  faithful,  but  their  numbers  few. 

To  stand  or  fall,  in  virtue’s  cause  engage, 

And  warmly  glow  th’  unequal  war  to  wage, 

Soon  join  the  combat  with  heroic  fire, 

While  friendship  and  revenge  their  souls  inspire, 

And  soon  compel  their  haughty  foes  to  yield, 

» 

Who  trembling  fly  the  memorable  field ! 

The  plunder’d  substance  of  thy  friends  again. 

And  thy  lov’d  Lot,  and  all  his  captive  train, 

Thus  nobly  rescu’d  by  affection’s  sword, 

To  home,  to  love,  and  friendship  are  restor’d. 

How  pleas’d  the  hero  whom  fair  wisdom  fires, 
When  toil  is  o’er  to  Friendship’s  vale  retires ! 
Though  for  a  while  imperious  duty  claim 
His  deeds  of  valour  on  the  fields  of  fame; 

Though  honour  prompts  him  at  his  country’s  call. 
O’er  her  proud  foes  to  triumph  or  to  fall; 

And  though  victorious  in  her  sacred  cause, 

He  hears  assembled  thousands  shout  applause, 
And  with  a  grateful  nation’s  blessing  crown’d, 
Sees  wealth  and  honours  all  his  deeds  surround; 
Yet  still  he  feels  a  purer  wish  arise. 

Than  fame,  or  pow’r,  or  grandeur  e’er  supplies, 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


47 


A  wish  to  know,  when  all  his  labours  close, 

In  Friendship’s  shade  the  sweetness  of  repose. 

Thus  Scipio,  conq’ror  of  the  Punic  state, 

Who  crush’d  his  country’s  foes,  and  made  her  great, 
When  ardent  Romans  gathering  round  his  car. 

Bore  him  triumphant  midst  the  spoils  of  war; 

With  zeal  transported  on  that  glorious  day, 

They  wish’d  to  clothe  him  with  a  sov’reign’s  sway; 
The  generous  hero  felt  his  soul  on  flame, 

Borne  on  the  wings  of  triumph  and  of  fame; 

But  victor  o’er  himself,  as  o’er  his  foes. 

He  check’d  ambition’s  impulse  as  it  rose; 

To  wisdom’s  whispering  voice  inclin’d  his  ear, 
Thought  of  sweet  peace,  and  Lelius  ever  dear; 

And  fled  from  glory’s  car  to  Friendship’s  dell, 

With  Lelius  and  philosophy  to  dwell; 

Rejoic’d  and  happy  that  he  had  for  them, 

Rejected  Rome’s  imperial  diadem! 

In  youth,  when  wild  tumultuous  passions  reign, 
And  lead  the  enraptur’d  pair  to  Hymen’s  fane; 

Ere  cautious  wisdom  can  perform  her  part. 

To  mark  esteem  presiding  in  the  heart. 

Soon  as  the  transient  gust  of  passion  dies. 

When  cloying  charms  no  longer  please  the  eyes, 
The  lovely  goddess  that  our  fancy  drew, 

Becomes  insipid,  and  our  joys  untrue! 

If  in  the  conformation  of  her  mind, 

We  search  in  vain  some  pleasing  charm  to  find, 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


The  loves  and  graces  that  adorn’d  her  frame, 

And  fir’d  the  heart  with  unresisted  flame, 

May  still  shine  forth  as  lovely  and  as  bright; 

But,  ah!  no  rapture  now  attends  the  sight! 

Our  days  pass  slow  and  sad  on  life’s  dark  stream, 
Unblest  by  love,  unbrighten’d  by  esteem. 

But  when  the  nuptial  rite  together  binds 
Two  ardent  hearts  and  corresponding  minds; 

When  something  more  than  passion’s  throb  controls 
The  mutual  admiration  of  their  souls; 

When  in  each  other  they  enraptur’d  find, 

The  grace  of  conduct,  and  the  light  of  mind. 

The  lovely  temper  wisdom  still  attains. 

The  constant  heart  where  fond  affection  reigns; 

O!  then,  when  youth  and  vigor  shall  decay, 

When  all  external  charms  shall  fade  away, 

The  happy  pair  delighted,  fond,  and  true. 

Shall  feel  the  sweets  of  love  forever  new, 

Shall  see,  perhaps,  an  offspring  bless  their  sight, 
Good,  like  themselves,  the  source  of  new  delight! 
And,  O!  when  generous  feelings  shall  appear 
To  animate  those  infant  bosoms  dear, 

What  sweet  emotions  they  shall  feel  the  while, 

And  fondly  watch  each  other  as  they  smile ! 

Thus  in  their  mutual  love  supremely  blest, 

They  glide  through  life,  and  calmly  sink  to  rest, 
Their  mortal  parts  to  kindred  dust  return’d, 

By  virtue  honour’d,  and  by  friendship  mourn’d! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


49 


Far  from  the  world,  retir’d  to  rural  shades, 
Where  toilsome  dissipation  ne’er  invades, 

How  blest  the  man  whose  peaceful  days  are  spent, 
In  easy  exercise,  and  calm  content! 

Who  with  the  lark  salutes  the  early  dawn, 

Breathes  ruddy  health  from  every  breezy  lawn, 
And  oft  dispos’d  to  work  the  fruitful  soil. 

Feels  dignity  and  pleasure  in  the  toil! 

How  happy  he,  if  in  his  bosom  glows 
A  taste  for  social  joy,  and  learn’d  repose ! 

O !  then  each  heart-felt  pleasure  to  endear, 

Let  some  belov’d  and  faithful  friend  be  near, 

With  whom  to  search  the  bright  instructive  page, 
And  wisdom  learn  from  many  an  honour’d  sage, 
Each  noble  art  and  science  to  explore, 

Or  trace  the  alluring  charms  of  classic  lore, 

Shall  bid  his  leisure  hours  delighted  flow, 

And  wrest  the  sting  from  every  ill  below. 

If  to  invention’s  pleasing  pow’r  resign’d, 

Some  useful  project  animates  his  mind. 

Intent  on  what  the  public  good  requires, 

Or  Friendship’s  more  endearing  claim  inspires. 

The  plan,  how  wise,  how  rational,  how  just, 

Full  many  a  time  is  o’er  and  o’er  discuss’d: 

Then  shall  his  watchful  friend,  with  cautious  view, 
Descry  the  path  that  prudence  should  pursue, 

And  show  while  this  a  useful  end  may  gain, 

That  but  an  idle  fancy  of  the  brain ! 

E 


50 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


Produce  the  taper  at  the  twilight  hour, 

And  yield  the  soul  to  Friendship’s  social  pow’r; 
Let  mem’ry  there  her  richest  stores  supply. 

Of  song  or  tale  to  bid  the  moments  fly; 

And  though  the  wintry  tempests  rage  the  while. 
Domestic  legends  shall  the  night  beguile; 

Or  literary  taste  its  charms  impart, 

To  please  the  fancy  and  improve  the  heart; 

Or  disputation’s  friendly  power  delight. 

Inform  the  mind,  and  set  the  judgment  right. 

Come  thou,  sweet  Poetry!  thou  nymph  divine. 
And  let  us  feel  those  thrilling  charms  of  thine. 
Which  raise  the  soul  terrestrial  cares  above. 

To  holy  warmth,  benevolence,  and  love! 

Let  hakspeare’s  magic  o’er  the  soul  prevail,- 
Or  yield  a  tear  to  Eloisa’s  tale; 

Let’ Thomson’s  muse  a  patriot  warmth  impart. 

Or  sweetly  flowing  Goldsmith  touch  the  heart; 

Or  on  Miltonian  wings  ascend  the  skies. 

To  realms  sublime,  unseen  by  mortal  eyes! 

At  heaven’s  bright  throne,  kneel,  tremble  and  adore. 
Or  Eden’s  loss  with  sorrowing  hearts  deplore: 

Or  from  the  enriching  philosophic  strain 
Of  Cowper’s  verse,  the  wealth  of  wisdom  gain; 
Learn  how  to  shape  the  devious  course  of  life. 

And  blunt  or  bear  its  malice  and  its  strife.' 

Let  Scotia’s  peasant  bard  his  numbers  roll. 

In  warmth  of  heart,  and  dignity  of  soul; 

And  feel  the  independent  throb  divine. 

That  fires  each  thought  and  breathes  in  every  line ! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


51 


O!  bring  th’ immortal  bard  of  Gaelic  song. 

Whose  genius  pours  the  torrent  verse  along. 

And  bids  the  tale  of  other  times  inspire 
The  heart  with  passion,  and  the  soul  with  fire! 
Fingal’s  great  deeds  excite  th’  heroic  glow, 

Who  ne’er  forsook  his  friend  nor  fled  his  foe ! 

But  in  each  generous  cause  his  might  display’d. 
Aveng’d  th’  oppress’d,  and  gave  the  needy  aid ! 

Let  Byron’s  lay  in  deep-ton’d  pathos  swell. 

The  stormy  workings  of  the  soul  to  tell; 

And  boldly  spread  before  a  wTond’ring  world, 

Its  vices  broadly  to  the  day  unfurl’d ! 

Or  should  our  Living  Bards  your  thoughts  engage, 
Whose,  varied  strains  delight  th’  admiring  age. 

Lo!  Friendship  warms  them  with  her  noblest  flame; 
To  aid  each  other  in  the  walks  of  fame. 

Delightful  concord !  holy  love  divine ! 

How  blest  and  worthy  of  the  sacred  Nine ! 

What  praise,  what  honours  mark  thy  golden  reign ! 
What  lasting  glory  for  the  Muse’s  train ! 

Hark !  from  their  harps  enraptur’d  measures  flow. 

As  if  heaven’s  minstrelsy  were  heard  below ! 

Oh!  hear  romantic  Scott  recall  the  time. 

When  love  was  virtue,  cowardice  was  crime; 

The  bard  of  chivalry,  whose  strains  delight 
To  sing  the  beauteous  maid,  and  cfharging  knight, 
With  pride  we  see  our  valiant  sires  advance, 

To  storm  the  castle,  or  to  break  the  lance ! 


U.  OF  ILL  LIB. 


52 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


What  noble  fires  Fitz  James’s  deeds  awake ! 

How  sweetly  charms  fair  Ellen  of  the  Lake ! 

Hark !  Southey,  master  of  the  potent  song. 

That  o’er  th’  imagination  deep  and  strong, 

With  wild  emotion  pours  its  mighty  flood. 

And  speaks  the  fierce  Apostate’s  direful  mood ! 
What  awful  scenes  his  magic  verse  displays, 
Kehama’s  curse,  and  Roderic’s  vengeful  days! 

And  hear  Montgomery’s  pious  strains  impart, 

The  glow  of  virtue  to  the  awaken’d  heart. 

Whether  his  lays  Helvetian  woes  record. 

When  freedom  sunk  beneath  the  Gaulic  sword: 

Or  touching  Javan’s  softer  lyre  to  move 
The  youthful  mind,  he  turns  it  all  to  love; 

He  ne’er  forgets  the  muse’s  noblest  end. 

To  make  us  feel  that  virtue  is  our  friend ! 

Or  from  th’  impressive  strains  of  Campbell  know 
How  Hope’s  blest  visions  charm  the  fiercest  wo. 
When  from  the  wretch  each  blessing  disappears, 
His  friend  she  lingers  still,  and  dries  his  tears ! 

Our  hearts  confess,  as  future  joys  unfold. 

Sweet  is  the  tale  of  Hope,  and  sweetly  told ! 

Now  let  the  bard  whose  song  in  Memory’s  praise, 
Recalls  the  pleasures  of  our  former  days, 

Declare  his  joys,  who  can  in  age  renew 
Those  scenes  that  strongly  blest,  but  swiftly  flew ! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


53 


O  h !  if  melodious  Moore  his  harp  has  strung 
To  tones  so  sweet  as  ever  poet  sung, 

If  Erin’s  praise  his  ardent  numbers  tell, 

Or  love’s  own  raptures  in  the  measures  swell, 

Till  warming  beauty  blushes  in  the  strain, 

And  mantling  pleasures  o’er  the  senses  reign; 

Then  from  your  soul  all  meaner  cares  disperse. 

And  riot  in  the  luxury  of  verse ! 

Or  let  the  muse  of  History  relate 
The  world’s  long  story,  human  nature’s  fate ! 

Mark  bold  ambition  seize  imperial  sway, 

While  prostrate  nations  tremble  and  obey ! 

E’en  feeble  Xerxes  holds  the  tyrant’s  rod. 

With  half  mankind  submissive  to  his  nod. 

Then  mark  how  Freedom’s  spirit  brightly  glows, 

And  calls  for  mighty  vengeance  on  her  foes ! 

See  Grecian  virtue  raise  the  standard  high, 

The  proud  invader  and  his  millions  fly; 

For  cloth’d  in  wrath  when  F reedom’s  sons  appear. 
Though  few,  they  teach  unnumber’d  foes  to  fear; 

The  soul  that  fires  them  every  danger  braves, 

Nor  dreads  a  tyrant  host  compos’d  of  slaves! 

Lo !  Tarquin  humbled !  mighty  Brutus  see ! 

He  grasps  the  sword  that  sets  his  country  free; 

Hark !  the  dread  vows  that  Roman  souls  inflame, 

That  burst  their  country’s  chains,  and  stamp  her  fame ! 

Now  let  Brittania’s  glorious  tale  explain, 

How  great  Eliza  bade  her  rule  the  main; 
e  2 


54 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


And  how  the  noble  fire  of  Hampden  shone, 

When  bound  to  earth  he  heard  his  country  groan. 
Swift  at  his  call  she  bursts  the  inglorious  chain. 

And  with  resistless  force  is  free  again ! 

O !  mark  the  wond’rous  pow’rs  of  Chatham’s  soul. 
That  held  ambitious  Europe  in  control; 

Corruption  trembled  at  his  virtuous  frown, 

And  vanquish’d  Bourbon  lost  the  laurel  crown. 

See  Burke  !  the  prince  of  orators  arise, 

Grace  in  his  gestures,  lightning  in  his  eyes; 

He  bears  his  audience  on  his  eagle  flight. 

As  boldly  soaring  to  the  source  of  light, 

He  grasps  a  ray  to  fire  the  dubious  mind, 

And  bids  prevailing  truth  instruct  mankind. 

Proud  o’er  the  waves,  see  conq’ring  Nelson  sweep 
Each  hostile  banner  from  the  subject  deep ! 

A  num’rous  band  of  heroes  by  his  side. 

The  terror  of  the  world,  their  country’s  pride ! 

Lo !  Salamanca’s  field  the  wreath  display. 

Or  dreadful  W aterloo’s  more  bloody  day ! 

The  mighty  deeds  by  Erin’s  warrior  done, 

The  scourge  of  tyrants,  conq’ring  Wellington ! 

But,  O !  what  name  in  history’s  page  so  bright; 
Whose  story  gives  the  world  such  pure  delight! 

As  his,  who  in  Columbian  wilds  afar. 

Where  sylvan  nature  courts  the  Western  star. 
With  steady  energy  to  battle  led 
Those  patriot  bands  who  bravely  fought  and  bled, 
And  like  their  chief,  had  swrorn  by  all  on  high, 

To  conquer  in  their  country’s  cause  or  die! 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


55 


What  glory  crowns  fair  Freedom’s  darling  son, 

The  boast  of  men — immortal  Washington! 

When  that  blest  day  which  gives  the  poor  man  rest, 
The  Christian  Sabbath,  warms  the  pious  breast; 

When  holy  ardours  animate  the  mind 
To  leave  the  sordid  cares  of  earth  behind, 

The  soul  dispos’d  to  rise  to  themes  sublime, 

Of  God,  of  Heaven,  and  never-ending  time! 

O!  then  with  warm  affections  plac’d  above, 

How  sweet  to  wander  through  the  sacred  grove, 
Whose  waving  foliage  shades  the  house  of  God, 

And  points  the  soul  to  her  desir’d  abode ! 

Ah!  then  let  Friendship  hear  the  heart  unfold 
The  snares  she  ’scap’d,  the  passions  she  controll’d, 

The  firm  belief  that  prompts  her  views  on  high. 

The  fears  that  check,  the  hopes  that  bid  her  try. 

Should  restless  doubt  the  heav’nward  prospect  blind, 
Or  grim  despondency  o’erwhelm  the  mind. 

Oh !  then  be  Friendship’s  aid  forever  near, 

To  strengthen  hope,  and  chase  the  pangs  of  fear. 

Ingenious  Cowper!  o’er  thy  troubled  soul, 

Long  time  despair  possess’d  a  stern  control: 

Thy  spirit  felt  the  fast  consuming  flame, 

And  daily  sunk  thy  melancholy  frame. 

In  vain  the  pow’r  of  healing  art  was  tried, 

Reason  and  pastime  were  in  vain  applied; 

Vain  were  the  charms  of  taste,  the  smiles  of  love. 
Nought  could  the  anguish  of  thy  soul  remove, 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


Till  Friendship  came  in  reverend  Unwin’s  form, 
Reliev’d  the  terror,  and  suppress’d  the  storm! 

The  cordial  balm  of  confidence  convey’d 
Peace  to  the  mind,  and  all  its  fears  allay’d; 
Renew’d  the  frame  with  health,  and  o’er  the  soul 
Bade  Reason’s  pow’r  resume  her  just  control. 

Sire  of  Creation !  when  thy  mighty  call 
Produc’d  the  heav’ns,  and  this  terrestrial  ball; 
When  heaving  nature  startled  at  thy  word. 

And  living  spirits  first  ador’d  their  Lord, 

Th’  eternal  purpose  mov’d  within  thy  breast, 

To  form  the  race  of  man  beloved  and  blest; 

And  pure,  and  good,  as  heav’n’s  own  seraph  band, 
Our  race  first  issu’d  from  thy  forming  hand. 

To  guilt,  and  pain,  and  sorrow  all  unknown, 

God  was  our  shield,  and  Paradise  our  own ! 

In  love’s  own  bow’r  th’  ambrosial  feast  was  spread 
And  holy  angels  blest  the  nightly  bed ; 

Refreshing  streams  with  soothing  murmurs  flow, 
Soft,  whisp’ring  gales  with  balmy  fragrance  blow; 
The  fruits,  the  flow’rs,  the  music  of  the  grove, 
Tell  all  is  happiness,  and  all  is  love ! 

But  soon  the  tempter  bade  our  bosoms  swell 
With  vain  desires,  we  ventur’d  and  we  fell ! 

In  wretched  state,  how  helpless  then  we  lay 
Beneath  heaven’s  wrath,  that  flam’d  in  fierce  array 
Could  angels  save  us?  could  repentant  tears 
Arrest  th’  unsparing  sword  that  justice  bears? 


PLEASURES  OF  FRIENDSHIP. 


57 


Ah !  no — in  vain  e’en  Pity  pleads  our  cause : 

Can  she  appease  heaven’s  violated  laws ! 

Can  seraph  tears  indemnity  provide, 

For  heaven  insulted,  Deity  defied ! — 

But  mark  how  bright  the  eternal  mercy  shone ! 

The  Heir  of  heav’n  hath  made  our  cause  his  own ! 
Almighty  power  is  offer’d  in  our  stead. 

And  sin,  and  death,  and  hell  are  captive  led ! 
Heaven’s  boundless  love  has  paid  the  debt  we  ow’d, 
Restor’d  our  souls  to  happiness  and  God ! 

Our  songs  shall  hence  in  grateful  anthems  rise, 

To  love  Divine,  and  Friendship  in  the  skies ! 

When  all  sublunar  joys  and  griefs  are  o’er. 

When  Nature  feels  her  latest  pang  no  more; 

When  this  fair  world,  and  yonder  orbs  of  fire. 

Shall  hear  th’  Almighty  thunder  and  expire ! 

O !  then,  in  realms  where  Hope’s  illusive  ray. 

Shall  yield  to  joy’s  interminable  day; 

Where  Mem’ry’s  power  no  feelings  shall  renew, 

But  such  as  spring  from  scenes  of  loveliest  hue; 
Where  Fancy’s  visions  never  shall  employ 
One  charm  unmingled  with  the  purest  joy; 

Blest  Friendship  ever  unimpair’d  shall  dwell, 

And  with  warm  influence  of  celestial  spell, 

Divinely  charm  each  sainted  heart  above. 

And  teach  the  sons  of  Heav’n  immortal  love ! 


THE  END 


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AN  ELEGY 


Written  at  the  gi'ave  of  a  rural  poet ,  in  the  North  of  Ireland. 


Where  from  yon  hallow’d  belfry’s  frowning  height. 
The  misty  moon  looks  through  the  rustling  grove ; 

To  woo  the  solemn  shades  of  gloomy  night. 
Congenial  with  my  troubled  soul,  I  rove. 

Beneath  my  feet  the  muttering  Inver  flows; 

Maternal  stream!  in  all  my  sorrows  dear, 

What  balm  thy  sympathising  plaint  bestows, 

To  sooth  the  anguish  of  my  grief  severe ! 

How  oft  along  thy  solitary  brink, 

In  musing  melancholy  mood  I  stray. 

On  pleasures  past,  and  present  woes  to  think, 

Or  with  thy  murmurs  mix  my  plaintive  lay ! 

How  oft  the  owl,  those  sacred  bowers  among, 

Dull  brooding  o’er  each  monumental  stone, 

Starts  from  her  reverie  to  hear  my  song, 

Pour’d  wildly  forth  in  sorrow’s  deepest  tone ! 


60 


AN  ELEGY. 


Oh  ye !  who  dwell  within  yon  holy  gloom, 

Ye  honoured  ghosts  of  many  a  hoary  sire, 

Who  now  contemplate  man’s  mysterious  doom, 
Wrapt  in  your  viewless  folds  of  blest  attire ! 

How  do  ye  love  indulgent  to  survey 
The  swelling  streams  of  generous  passion  roll; 
Which,  though  they  drive  young  ardor  oft  astray, 
Are  the  first  pledges  of  a  noble  soul ! 

But  how  with  indignation  do  ye  burn. 

To  view  th’  unfeeling  proud,  exulting  throw 
Those  scornful  shafts  that  make  the  worthy  mourn, 
And  add  a  keener  edge  to  human  wo ! 

Lo !  yon  imploring  wretch,  the  sport  of  fate, 

Who  oft  has  bled  his  country  to  defend, 

Behold  him  spurned  from  guilty  grandeur’s  gate, 
Without  relief,  a  shelter,  or  a  friend! 

Ye  saints  of  mercy !  say,  is  there  no  hand 
To  yield  one  comfort  to  the  poor  man’s  prayer? 

Of  all  the  wealth  that  crowns  his  native  land, 

Dare  he  not  claim  a  share, — a  little  share? 

But  ah !  the  base  ingratitude  of  man, 

If  aught  can  paint  in  colours  justly  strong. 

His  fate,  who  lies  beneath  yon  marble,  can, 

Where  fairy  flowers  collect,  a  fragrant  throng ! 


AN  ELEGY. 


61 


Turn  to  yon  hut  the  falling  roof  deserts, 

There  genius  long  her  darling  will  deplore ; 

His  country  own’d  him  as  a  man  of  parts, 

She  own’d  him  such,  but,  ah !  she  did  no  more. 

Yet,  though  his  evil  fortune  frown  unkind. 
Nature  beheld  him  with  a  fond  regard; 

With  noblest  feelings  warm,  endow’d  his  mind. 
And  stamp’d  him  at  his  birth,  a  favourite  bard. 

Here  first  she  o’er  his  rude  conceptions  sway’d, 
And  by  her  glorious  self  his  conduct  steer’d; 
Here  first  his  infant  eyes  her  charms  survey’d, 
And  lovely  in  his  eyes  her  charms  appeared. 

Oft  by  the  margin  of  yon  bank  alone. 

Upon  his  country’s  harp  he  sang  her  praise; 

But  sadness  still  respir’d  from  every  tone. 

For,  ah !  his  country  heeded  not  his  lays. 

Thus  to  the  Indian  shines  the  gem  in  vain, 

The  richest  product  of  his  native  fields; 

The  tiger  crushes  with  regardless  strain, 

The  loveliest  flower  the  sylvan  desert  yields ! 

And  oft  beneath  yon  hawthorn  would  he  lie. 
And  watch  the  passing  stream  for  many  an  hour; 
Or  gazing  on  the  wide  o’erarching  sky, 

Forget  the  scornful  world,  and  all  its  power. 

F 


62 


AX  ELEGY. 


But  soon,  too  soon,  with  rigid  scorpion  laws. 

Would  thought  return  to  re-assert  her  throne; 

For,  ah !  the  want  of  merit’s  fair  applause. 

No  bosom  felt  severer  than  his  own. 

Too  well  his  soul  each  impulse  quick  obey’d , 

Keen  sensibility  unnerved  his  frame; 

And  Melancholy,  sweetly  weeping  maid, 

Did  all  his  warmth  of  strong  devotion  claim. 

Now  to  the  lonely  wood  or  desert  vale, 

With  lengthened  strides  he  hurries  o’er  the  plain; 
And  mutters  to  the  wind  his  wayward  tale, 

Or  chaunts  abrupt  a  discontented  strain. 

Say!  why  did  heaven,  since  partial  is  our  fate, 

To  man  his  native  dignity  reveal? 

Why  give  that  tyrant  to  be  rich  and  great, 

And  me  this  independent  wish  to  feel  ? 

“  But  I  submit;  heaven  cannot  be  in  fault; — 

And  where  the  mighty  triumph  he  obtains ! 

I  would  not  change  one  independent  thought. 

For  all  the  groveling  tyrant’s  rich  domains ! 

“  Ah!  what  to  me  though  fortune’s  every  grace, 
Wealth,  pleasure,  power,  and  splendor  on  me  shone, 
Since  Erin  drives  me  from  her  dear  embrace. 

To  waste  in  shades  inglorious  and  unknown  L 


AN  ELEGY. 


**  How  leap’d  my  heart,  as  oft  her  harp  I  strung, 

And  dreamt  of  honours  that  she  would  bestow  1 
But  disappointment  stern  the  dart  has  flung, 

That  lays  the  fondest  bard  of  Erir  low.” 

Now  far  above  the  world’s  envenom’d  sting, 

Shade  of  the  enthusiastic  glow  divine ! 

Permit  a  youth  thy  former  woes  to  sing. 

Whose  fate,  alas !  too  much  resembles  thine ! 

And  let  me  o’er  thy  consecrated  stone, 

Pour  the  sad  tribute  of  a  mournful  breast. 

That  passing  worth  thy  sorrows  may  bemoan, 

And  virgin  tears  embalm  thy  place  of  rest. 

Though  lowly  here  thy  mould’ring  frame  decays, 

Thy  soul  exalted  lives  beyond  the  skies; 

And  though  ungenerous  men  witheld  their  praise. 

In  heaven  thou  now  enjoy’st  a  richer  prize. 

Too  weak  thy  soul  to  combat  with  the  world.. 

Too  great  to  tread  the  servile  walks  of  gain, 

Thy  little  all  was  swift  to  ruin  hurl’d. 

But  death  soon  snatched  thee  from  contempt  and  pain 

Thou  sought’st  for  nought  on  earth  beyond  renown, 
To  which  the  Muses  prov’d  thy  title  fair: 

Whate’er  thy  faults,  they  ’re  to  the  grave  gone  down. 
And  undisturbed  oblivion  holds  them  there. 


AN  ODE 


To  general  La  Fayette  on  his  visiting  the  United  States  in  1824. 

Welcome  great  chieftain!  Freedom’s  boast, 

To  Freedom’s  sacred  land; 

Welcome  to  an  admiring  host. 

Whose  grateful  hearts  expand 
With  joy  to  hail  the  warrior  brave, 

Whose  arm  was  boldly  stretched  to  save 
Their  country  in  her  darkest  hour, 

When  shrinking  from  th’  oppressor’s  power, 

She  mourn’d  the  ruthless  fate  which  seem’d  to  say 
“  Thy  freedom  soon  expires,  crush’d  on  its  natal  day.” 

Thy  heart  was  gallant,  young,  and  warm, 

Thy  sword  was  prompt  and  true. 

And  midst  the  battle’s  loud  alarm. 

Thy  conq’ring banners  flew; 

'Twas  freedom’s  cause  thy  soul  inspir’d, 

’Twas  holy  zeal  thy  bosom  fir’d, 

When  strong  thy  generous  wrath  arose. 

And  rush’d  with  ruin  on  our  foes. 

How  bright  the  glory  then  thy  valour  won, 

* 

A  nation’s  gratitude,  the  love  of  Washington  ! 

That  sacred  name,  what  thoughts  of  pride 
Does  it  not  yield  to  thee, 

As  oft  thou  think’st  how  side  by  side, 

Ye  won  our  liberty? 

For  us  we  never  shall  forget 

To  whom  we  owe  the  mighty  debt ! 


TO  MY  FIRST  LOVE. 


65 


And  join’d  with  his  immortal  name, 

Thine  living  on  the  rolls  of  fame, 

Through  every  age  admir’d  and  lov’d  shall  flow, 

And  teach  each  generous  heart  with  patriot  warmth  to  glow. 

Then  welcome  to  the  honours  now 
Our  grateful  hearts  prepare; 

The  wreath  to  decorate  thy  brow, 

Is  braided  by  the  fair; 

And  bards  have  wak’d  each  tuneful  shell, 

To  bid  the  songs  of  triumph  swell ; 

Ten  thousand  thousand  hearts  beat  high, 

Throughout  this  land  of  liberty. 

To  tell  the  list’ning  world  with  loud  acclaim, 

The  glory  that  is  due  to  Fayette’s  honour’d  name. 

TO  MY  FIRST  LOVE. 

O !  thou,  for  whom  my  bosom  swell’d, 

When  first  it  knew  the  thrill  of  love, 

Whose  mem’ry  still  shall  dear  be  held. 

While  in  this  breast  one  pulse  shall  move ; 

Though  fated  now  afar  to  rove. 

From  all  th^t  once  my  life  could  bless, 

Exile  and  sorrow  shall  but  prove 
To  thee  my  heart’s  devotedness. 

O !  Anna,  think’st  thou  time  or  place. 

Can  ever  change  a  love  like  mine  ? 

Can  from  my  mem’ry  e’er  efface 
Charms  there  impress’d  as  deep  as  thine ! 
f  2 


TO  MY  FIRST  LOVE. 


No;  I  may  suffer  and  repine. 

While  round  my  head  life’s  tempests  roll; 

To  death  itself  I  may  resign. 

But  thou  shalt  triumph  in  my  soulv 

At  twilight’s  tender  hour  of  love, 

That  hour  to  my  fond  feelings  dear. 

By  Inver’s  margin  dost  thou  rove, 

Where  oft  we  pledged  our  vows  sincere  ? 

And  think’st  thou  of  the  grief  severe, 

That  bids  thy  hapless  lover  groa«i, 

Without  one  joy  his  soul  to  cheer, 

Save  when  he  thinks  of  thee  alone  ? 

How  sweet  the  throb  of  ardent  joy, 

Our  raptur’d  bosoms  fondly  knew, 

When  love  would  all  our  thoughts  employ, 
And  nought  but  bliss  our  fancies  drew! 

We  thought  not  then  to  bid  adieu, 

To  love  and  joy  on  Inver’s  shore. 

Nor  felt  the  pang,  when  hearts  so  true. 

Are  doom’d  to  part  to  meet  no  more ! 

But  time  flew  swift  with  light’ning  speed, 
And  brought  that  pang  upon  his  wing; 

To  joys  divine,  we  felt  succeed 
Harsh  disappointment’s  fiery  sting. 

Oh !  then  what  love,  what  suffering, 

We ,  at  our  last  sad  meeting  felt ! 

Remembrance  still  the  scene  can  bring, 

To  bid  my  troubl’d  bosom  melt. 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


THE  MAID  OF  TOBERGELL; 

Tune ,  “  The  Blackbird 

On  Ballygally’s  summits  wild, 

The  slowly-setting  sun  deplay’d, 

The  dewy  lips  of  evening  smil’d, 

In  nature’s  vernal  charms  array’d: 

Soft  fragrance  scented  every  shade, 

From  every  tree  soft  music  fell. 

While  zephyrs  wanton’d  o’er  the  mead, 
Fraught  with  the  sweets  of  Tobergell. 

As  musing  here  I  chanc’d  to  stray, 

A  lovely  maiden  caught  my  view,  . 

To  whom  creation  seem’d  to  say, 

All  these  my  beauties  are  for  you! 

The  fragrant  gale,  the  pearly  de.w, 

The  wild-bird  notes  with  love  that  swell. 
Each  night  their  off ’rings  here  renew, 

To  you,  sweet  maid  of  Tobergell ! 


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ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


She  slowly  trod  the  flow’ry  lea, 

Soft,  modest  beauty  in  her  mien; 

Oh!  who  could  stand  unmov’d  to  see. 

So  fair  a  nymph,  and  fair  a  scene ! 

My  quick’ning  pulse,  and  rapture  keen, 
Confess’d  the  charms  that  did  impel 
My  very  soul  to  tread  the  green. 

With  the  sweet  maid  of  Tobergell. 

Not  in  the  palace  of  the  great, 

The  diamond  blaze  of  lab’ring  art. 

Must  we  expect  the  happy  seat, 

Of  scenes  whose  beauties  reach  the  heart : 
But  feelings  pure  spontaneous  start. 

That  raise  the  soul  with  mystic  spell. 

To  taste  what  nature’s  sweets  impart. 

In  scenes  like  these  at  Tobergell. 

Give  me  a  home  ’midst  bow’rs  like  these, 
With  such  a  maid  as  this  to  gain, 

And  health,  and  just  enough  of  ease. 
Sometimes  to  weave  the  rural  strain: 
Then  bustling  pomp,  and  grandeur  vain. 
Away!  with  me  ye  ne’er  shall  dwell, 

For  happy  here  I’ll  still  remain, 

With  the  sweet  maid  of  Tobergell. 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


69 


THE  DRUID’S  GROT. 

Jlir,  “  Humours  of  Glen.” 

The  fierce  summer  heats  have  yon  streamlet  exhausted. 
That  sluggishly  creeps  through  its  channel  unseen; 

The  green  sap  of  life  of  its  vigour  is  wasted, 

And  faded  the  bright  gems  that  chequer  the  green; 

The  thirsty  flocks  hie  to  the  fresh  cooling  fountain, 

The  mower  extends  his  tir’d  length  on  the  mead; 

And  I’ll  to  the  Grot  in  the  side  of  yon  mountain, 

Where  Mary  still  flies  when  she  seeks  the  cool  shade ! 

A  pure  chrystal  stream  this  dear  Grotto  encloses, 

So  sweet  and  refreshing,  ’tis  fit  for  my  love; 

All  round  it  I’ve  planted  fair  woodbines  and  roses, 

And  the  arch’d  roof  with  ivy  is  mantled  above : 

Some  Druid  of  Erin  of  old  here  had  founded 
An  altar  to  love,  for  on  it  were  portray’d, 

Two  doves  and  two  hearts  that  were  mutually  wounded, 
And  that  oft  here  had  met  in  the  cool  summer  shade. 

’Twas  here  one  bright  noon  that  my  stars  kindly  drove  me, 
She  lay,  and  all  lovely  in  sleep  she  appear’d; 

I  slipp’d  near  and  whisper’d — “  Dear  maid  that  I  love  thee, 
I  swear  by  this  altar  some  Druid  has  rear’d.” — 

She,  startling,  awoke,  and  blush’d  all  in  confusion, 

To  my  bosom  I  clasped  her,  when,  smiling,  she  said, 

**  Dear  Patrick,  I  pardon  your  ardent  intrusion. 

For  I  heard  your  soft  vow  in  the  cool  summer  shade.” 


70 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


Since  that,  we  still  meet  here  when  fierce  heats  are  glowing, 
And  our  flocks  rest  secure  in  the  shade  of  the  hill; 

We  taste  all  the  joys  from  our  pure  raptures  flowing. 

And  we  sing  of  the  Druid,  the  Grot,  and  the  rill. 

But  the  day  that ’s  forever  to  join  us,  we’ve  set  it, 

And  on  this  blest  altar  our  rites  hall  be  paid, 

For  the  throb  we  first  felt  here,  we’ll  never  forget  it, 

Nor  the  joys  we  oft  own’d  in  the  cool  summer  shade ! 


THE  ISLE  OF  GREEN, 

Tune ,  “  Gramachree 

When  o’er  the  ocean’s  stormy  scene. 
Hard  fortune  bade  me  rove, 

With  tears  I  left  the  Isle  of  Green, 
And  all  I  e’er  can  love; 

For  scenes  of  joy  I’ll  never  find. 

Like  Erin’s  fields  again; 

Nor  meet  with  hearts  so  true  and  kind, 
As  Irish  breasts  contain. 

When  on  the  deck  I  took  my  stand. 

To  view  with  anxious  eye, 

The  fading  tints  of  that  dear  land 
Where  all  my  fathers  lie, 

I  sigh’d  to  think  of  many  a  friend, 
There  long  and  dearly  lov’d, 

Whose  pray’rs  for  me  shall  oft  ascend, 
When  I  am  far  remov’d. 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


71 


O!  ye  of  tender  hearts  declare, 

If  ye  the  pang  e’er  knew, 

Which  parting  friends  are  doom’d  to  bear. 
How  sad  their  last  adieu ! 

If  ye  have  felt  your  country  sweet. 

And  must  from  her  depart, 

Think  ye  with  aught  on  earth  to  meet, 
Except  a — broken  heart ! 

When  Erin’s  sons  are  forc’d  to  stray, 

Far  from  their  native  shore. 

In  hours  of  grief,  ah !  well  may  they  , 

Their  cruel  fate  deplore ! 

Well  may  they  too,  in  hours  of  pride. 
Boast  that  their  birth  was  there, 

For  ocean  rolls  his  ample  tide. 

Around  no  land  so  fair ! 


OFT  AS  BY  FAIR  OHIO’S  SIDE. 
Tune ,  “  When  hidden  to  the  wake  or  fair.” 

Oft  as  by  fair  Ohio’s  side, 

I  court  the  solitary  scene 
Of  hoary  forests  spreading  wide, 

Or  prairies  waving  fresh  and  green. 

From  musing  on  the  evening  ray, 

That  gilds  the  glitt’ring  landscape  o’er, 
On  fancy’s  wings  I  fly  away, 

To  Erin’s  sea-encircled  shore. 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


There  on  the  primrose  cover’d  vale, 
By  natal  Inver’s  hallow’d  stream. 

Once  more  I  breathe  the  scented  gale, 
That  oft  refresh’d  my  childhood’s  dream 
And  sweet,  in  many  a  tuneful  lay, 

I  hear  the  warblers  of  the  grove. 
Where,  once  as  blithe  in  song  as  they, 
I  pour’d  the  rural  strains  of  love. 

In  that  fair  haw  thorn  skirted  plain, 
Where  youthful  pleasures  first  I  knew, 
I  meet  my  long  lost  friends  again, 
Forever  lov’d,  forever  true! 

And  0 !  while  rapture  uncontroll’d 
Bright  glistens  in  their  ardent  eyes, 

I  to  my  glowing  breast  enfold. 

The  partners  of  my  early  joys ! 

Fair  visions  of  celestial  hue, 

O !  still  possess  with  kindly  spell. 

This  aching  heart,  which  but  for  you, 
Might  bid  all  earthly  joys  farewell ! 
From  warm  affection’s  source  divine. 
Your  ever  blissful  charms  arise; 

O!  let  that  throb  be  ever  mine, 

Your  rapture-giving  smile  supplies. 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


73 


THE  EXILE  OF  ERIN’S  RETURN. 

Tune,  “  Erin  go  bragh 

O’er  the  hills  of  Slieve-Gallen,  as  homeward  he  wander’d. 
The  Exile  of  Erin  oft  paus’d  with  delight, 

To  dear  recollections  his  soul  he  surrender’d. 

As  each  well-known  object  return’d  to  his  sight: 

Here  was  the  brook  oft  he  leap’d  so  light  hearted. 

Here  was  the  bower  where  with  love  he  first  smarted, 

And  here  was  the  old  oak  where,  when  he  departed. 

He  carv’d  his  last  farewell,  ’twas  Erin  go  bragh. 

His  heart  wild  was  beating,  when  softly  assail’d  him 
The  sound  of  a  harp — O !  he  listen’d  with  joy ! 

His  quick’ning  emotions,  his  visage  reveal’d  them. 

And  the  fire  of  his  country  beam’d  strong  from  his  eye ! 

A  sweet  female  voice  soon  the  lov’d  strains  attended, 

’Twas  dear  to  his  fond  soul  that  o’er  it  suspended. 

With  each  note  the  spirits  of  feeling  ascended, 

Sung  soft  to  the  accents  of  Erin  go  bragh. 

“  I  once  had  a  lover, ’’thus  ran  the  sweet  numbers, 

“Now  doom’d  far  from  me  and  his  country  to  mourn; 

“  Perhaps  in  the  cold  bed  of  death  e’en  he  slumbers — 

“Ah !  my  soul,  canst  thou  think  he  shall  ever  return! 

“Yes,  he  shall — for  he  lives,  and  his  past  woes  redressing, 

“  His  country  shall  claim  him  with  smiles  and  carressing, 

“  And  lock’d  in  my  arms,  he’ll  pronounce  her  his  blessing, 

“  That  country  which  wrong’d  him,  his  Erin  go  bragh. 

G 


74 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES, 


“  As  a  lamb  he  was  meek,  as  a  dove  he  was  tender, 

“  And  form’d  was  his  bosom  for  friendship  and  love,. 

“  But  call’d  by  his  country,  still  swift  to  defend  her, 

“  Undaunted  and  fierce  as  the  eagle  he’d  move. 

“That  ardor  of  passion  for  me  that  he  pleaded, 

“  By  what  female  breast  could  it  have  been  unheeded  ? 

“  The  love  of  his  country  alone  could  exceed  it, 

“  For  still  his  first  wish  was  for  Erin  go  bragh ! 

“  This  Harp,  on  whose  strings  oft  he  rous’d  each  emotion, 

“  Unrivall’d  the  soft  tones  of  feeling  to  draw, 

“  He  left  me,  the  pledge  of  his  heart’s  true  devotion, 

“  And  bade  me  oft  strike  it  to  Erin  go  bragh ! 

“  Oft  Iv’e  dream’d  that  on  it,  as  he  sat  in  this  bower, 

“  He  touch’d  the  sad  tale  of  his  exile  with. power, 

“  Each  soul-glowing  patriot  the  strains  did  devour, 

“  Struck  full  to  the  magic  of  Erin  go  bragh. 

“  But  cease  ye  vain  dreams'!  for  at  morn  still  I  lose  him, 

“  And  cease  my  false  hopes,  for  my  griefs  must  remain” — 
“No,  they  must  not,”  he  cried,  and  he  rush’d  to  herbosom — 
“  Your  Exile’s  return’d  to  his  Erin  again ! 

“  Now  fall’n  are  th’  oppressors  that  sought  to  destroy  me, 

“  Love,  friendship,  and  Erin,  shall  henceforth  employ  me” — 
“  ’Tis  himself,”  she  exclaim’d,  “  O !  ye  powr’s !  ye  o’erjoy  me 
“  Then  blest  be  my  country,  blest  Erin  go  bragh !” 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


75 


HOW  SWEET  THE  EVE  ON  CURRAN’S  SHORE, 
•  Tune,  “  Mary's  dream." 

How  sweet  the  eve  on  Curran’s  shore, 

When  golden  Autumn  paints  the  scene; 

When  shines  the  moon  the  landscape  o’er, 

In  solemn  majesty  serene ! 

This  is  a  beauteous  time  for  those, 

Whose  hearts  young  love  divinely  warms, 

Who  joy,  when  nature  in  repose, 

Arrays  her  in  her  fairest  charms. 

r 

I  love  to  stray  mid  scenes  like  these, 

Where  I  may  pour  the  plaintive  strain, 

That  soothes  a  heart  depriv’d  of  ease, 

A  heart  like  mine,  that  loves  in  vain  ! 

O !  Anna  !  source  of  all  my  care, 

Dare  I  my  ardent  passion  tell  ? 

Wilt  thou  not  scorn,  thou  peerless  fair, 

To  hear  me  say,  I  love  so  well  ? 

Maid  of  the  lovely  rolling  eye, 

Maid  of  each  grace  that  kindles  love. 

Oh !  do  not  frown  to  hear  me  sigh, 

Nor  do  my  faithful  flame  reprove ! 

For  should’st  thou  unpropitious  be, 

My  griefs  in  secret  shall  remain, 

Ah !  never  will  I  tell  to  thee, 

What  would  thy  hallow’d  bosom  pain, 


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ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


But  to  fair  Curran’s  strand  I’ll  rove. 
While  balmy  evening  lingers  there; 

Fit  time  and  place  for  hopeless  love. 
To  sooth  the  anguish  of  despair ! 

There  where  the  gath’ring  billows  roll, 
Unheard,  unknown,  I’ll  chant  my  wo. 
Until  at  length  my  harrass’d  soul. 

This  weary  wasted  frame  forego ! 


OH!  THE  DAYS  ARE  LONG  PAST,  &c. 

Tune ,  “  Thy  blue  leaves,  0!  Canon” 

Oh  !  the  days  are  long  past  since  the  music  of  Erin, 
Delighted  h£r  sons  in  the  mansions  of  kings. 

Since  her  chiefs  in  the  joys  of  the  festive  board  sharing. 
Were  rous’d  by  the  magic  that  flow’d  from  the  strings! 
O !  ’tis  long  since  the  patriot  heart  was  affected. 

By  strains  that  the  deeds  of  our  forefathers  told; 

And  long  since  the  bard  and  the  harp  were  respected, 

By  Irishmen  free,  independent,  and  bold ! 

Our  island  long  flourish’d  the  pride  of  the  ocean, 

As  the  olive  of  Europe,  she  bloom’d  in  the  west, 

And  learning  when  chas’d  by  war’s  barb’rous  commotion, 
In  her  shamrock-clad  vales  found  protection  and  rest. 
Our  bards  then  with  rapture  oft  sang  of  her  glory, 

While  the  harp  sweetly  sounding  accompanied  the  strain 
Each  patriot  heart  fill’d  with  antiquity’s  story. 

Felt  the  warm  pulse  of  gratitude  throb  in  each  vein ! 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


But  despis’d  by  the  stranger,  who  felt  not  his  numbers. 
The  bard  is  now  sunk  in  obscurity’s  vale, 

And  the  harp  quite  neglected,  in  deep  silence  slumbers, 
Except  when  awaken’d  to  sorrow’s  sad  tale : 

But  there  is  an  ardor  and  strength  in  the  spirit 
Of  Irishmen  yet  that  shall  bid  them  arise, 

And  the  day  brightly  dawns  when  the  bard  shall  inherit. 
The  praise  of  his  country,  his  dearest  of  joys ! 


EARLY  SCENES. 

Tune ,  “  The  Lee  Rig.” 

That  spot  of  all  the  spacious  earth, 

Is  sweetest  to  the  feeling  mind, 

Where  first  affection  had  its  birth. 

And  early  ties  the  heart  entwin’d : 

For  there  the  youthful  fancy  stray’d. 

Mid  raptur’d  scenes  without  alloy, 

And  there  th’  impression  strong  was  made. 
Of  ne’er-to-be-forgotten  joy ! 

Is  there  a  season  fraught  with  bliss, 

That  can  attach  us  here  below  ? 

The  joyous  dawn  of  life  is  this, 

When  love’s  first  fires  begin  to  glow; 

For  then  if  ills  or  fears  invade,’ 

The  lightsome  spirits  bid  them  fly, 

And  then  th’  impression  strong  is  made, 

Of  ne’er-to-be-forgotten  joy. 

g2 


78 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


In  manhood’s  prime  when  cares  assail. 

As  fame  or  fortune  we  pursue, 

How  oft  our  darling  prospects  fail, 

While  distant  good  but  mocks  the  view ! 

O !  then  the  cheerless  heart  to  aid, 
Remembrance  of  those  days  employ, 

When  first  th’  impression  strong  was  made, 
Of  ne’er-to-be-forgotten  joy. 

And  in  the  vale  of  hoary  years, 

When  scarce  a  pulse  the  breast  can  warm, 
And  not  a  beauteous  spot  appears, 

The  dull  remains  of  life  to  charm, 

Then  be  young  scenes  again  portray’d. 

And  bright  shall  beam  the  languid  eye, 

As  when  th’  impression  first  was  made. 

Of  ne’er-to-be-forgottei\  joy ! 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


7  9 


HOME. 

Time,  “  Coulin 

Oh  !  the  best  spot  on  earth  for  delight  to  be  found  * 

Is  at  home,  where  with  joy  our  affection  is  crown’d; 
Where  the  wife  of  our  bosom  still  meets  us  with  smiles, 
And  the  mirth  of  our  children  each  sorrow  beguiles. 

In  the  walks  of  ambition,  with  pow’r  and  with  fame, 
We  may  shine  in  full  pomp,  and  establish  a  name, 

But  the  flow’r  of  content  in  the  soul  will  not  bloom, 
Unless  it  first  springs  from  our  comforts  at  Home. 

When  disease  overtakes  us,  and  wealth  flies  away, 
When  foes  triumph  o’er  us,  and  flatt’rers  betray, 

Ah!  where  shall  we  find  the  true  cordial  of  life. 

But  at  home  in  th’  endearments  of  children  and  wife ! 

Whenever  my  sum  of  contentment  is  low, 

When  a  bankrupt  in  bliss,  and  embarrass’d  with  wo ! 
At  home  I  still  find  in  the  charms  that  are  there, 

A  fund  that  o’erpays,  and  discharges  my  care. 


80 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES'. 


YE  NATAL  HILLS. 

Tune ,  “  Banks  o’  Z)oon.” 

Ye  natal  hills !  that  softly  throw 
Around  my  soul  a  mystic  charm. 

Oft  have  ye  seen  the  former  joys. 

That  did  my  youthful  bosom  warm; 

When  blest  with  Ellen’s  lovely  smiles, 

I  stray’d  your  verdant  scenes  among. 

As  blithe  a  youth  as  ever  rais’d 
On  Irish  plains  the  rural  song. 

Ye  elms  that  crown  yon  river’s  brink, 

Ye  little  warblers  of  their  boughs, 

Why  look  so  fair,  why  sing  so  gay. 

Ye  witness’d  Ellen’s  broken  vows! 

Ye  saw  her  lovely  blushes  spread, 

As  round  her  breast  I  would  entwine; 

But  now  a  happier  swain  enjoys, 

Those  dear  delights  that  once  were  mine ! 

Ye  blossom’d  boughs  and  flowrets  sweet, 
Why  spread  your  blooms  so  fresh  and  fair, 
Ye  mind  me  of  my  Ellen’s  charms, 

When  first  she  did  my  heart  ensnare; 

Ye  mind  me  of  the  fickle  maid. 

Whose  loss  I  ever  must  deplore, 

For  ah !  those  dear  departed  joys, 

I’ll  never,  never  prove  them  more ! 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


81 


WASHINGTON’S  NAME. 

Tune,  “  Paddy  Whack.” 

O !  strong  was  the  cement  of  patriot  affection. 

That  these  happy  states  in  firm  union  allied; 

Time  only  more  closely  shall  draw  the  connexion, 
Which  traitors  in  vain  shall  attempt  to  divide. 

The  federal  bond,  as  we  ever  have  found  it. 

Prolific  of  blessings  shall  still  be  the  same; 

And  heroes  shall  form  a  strong  bulwark  around  it, 
While  their  hearts  glow  with  rapture  at 
W ashington’s  name ! 

That  heav’n-borrow’d  standard,  the  symbol  of  union, 
Each  patriot  citizen  glories  to  view ! 

’Tis  the  badge  that  displays  the  illustrious  communion 
Of  states  independent,  united,  and  true ! 

O !  we’ll  never  abandon  the  bright  constellation, 

That  led  us  to  victory,  freedom,  and  fame: 

But  a  rampart  we’ll  form  round  the  laws  of  our  nation, 
While  our  hearts  glow  with  rapture  at 
Washington’s  name ! 

The  sire  of  his  country,  how  dearly  he  lov’d  us, 

A  long  life  of  patriot  exertion  can  tell ! 

Then  O !  when  he  left  us,  it  surely  behov’d  us. 

To  print  on  our  hearts  such  a  farther’s  “  farewell.” 
That  divine  constitution  he  left  as  his  blessing, 

While  virtue  one  spot  in  our  bosoms  can  claim, 

We’ll  defend,  all  our  feuds  and  divisions  suppressing, 
At  the  heart-  warming  influence  of 
Washington’s  name ! 


82 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 


LOVE’S  SORROWS. 

In  the  first  dawn  of  youthful  feeling, 

How  sweet  the  throb  of  love  to  cherish ! 
O’er  every  sense  delighted  stealing, 

Its  sorrows  all  at  first  concealing, 

And  nought  but  heav’nly  charms  revealing, 
It  sways  us  till  we  perish ! 

However  fair  to  sight  appearing, 

The  blissful  vision  is  imparted, 

Though  lovely,  tender,  and  endearing, 
Bright’ning  our  joys,  our  sorrows  cheering, 
Some  wayward  fortune  interfering, 

May  leave  us  broken  hearted ! 

I  thought  that  Ellen  lov’d  sincerely, 

When  first  my  young  affections  sought  her, 
Ah !  she  was  fair,  I  lov’d  her  dearly; 

I  found  her  false,  and  grieve  severely. 

That  she  was  but  a  woman  merely , 

When  I  an  angel  thought  her ! 

Thus  love  on  tender  hearts  imposes, 

And  thus  his  willing  captives  languish: 

We  think  his  path  o’erspread  with  roses, 

But  thorns,  alas !  he  soon  discloses, 

Till  every  hope  his  victim  loses, 

And  fades  away  in  anguish ! 


original  melodies. 


THE  ROSE. 

Tune,  “  0!  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose 

What  ardent  joys  my  spirits  prove, 
To  love’s  delightful  raptures  true, 
When  down  yon  smiling  vale  I  rove, 
Eliza’s  cottage  in  my  view ! 

A  rose  of  late  had  blossom’d  there, 

The  sweetest  rose  I  ever  saw, 

It  look’d  as  from  my  lovely  fair. 

It  did  its  peerless  beauties  draw. 

Beneath  a  hawthorn  shade  I  lay, 

A  shade  that  dear  to  lovers  grows, 

When  to  the  rose  she  held  her  way, 
Herself  by  far  the  loveliest  rose. 

It  glitter’d  with  the  evening  dew. 

She  press’d  it  to  her  lips  divine — 

A  sudden  sigh  my  bosom  drew, 

Alas !  that  such  a  bliss  were  mine ! 

Let  me  remove  that  blossom  fair, 

And  plant  it  in  my  bosom’s  cell — 

Ah!  no,  ’twould  sadly  wither  there. 

And  think  Eliza  loves  it  well ! 


84 


ORIGINAL  MELODIES. 

But  I  those  fragrant  leaves  will  kiss, 
Which  with  her  fragrant  lips  she  prest — 
O !  how  ’twill  be  ecstatic  bliss, 

And  how  I’ll  boast  I  once  was  blest ! 


85 


CAITHALORE 

AN  IRISH  LEGENDARY  TALE. 

Melchira,  the  daughter  of  Caithalore,  a  chief  of  Ulster,  was  treacherously 
carried  offby  the  king  of  Connaught,  who  wished  to  force  her  to  his  ille¬ 
gal  embraces.  She,  however,  succeeded  in  resisting  him  until  her  father, 
assembling  his  friends,  effected  her  rescue,  but  was  himself  taken  prison¬ 
er  in  the  attempt.  The  sequel  will  be  sufficiently  gathered  from  the  poem. 

The  powers  of  song  inspiring  boldness  bring. 

And  warm  my  soul  of  Caithalore  to  sing. 

As  to  the  thirsty  fields  at  noontide  hour, 

With  gentle  lapse  descends  the  summer  shower; 

As  to  the  midnight  wand’rer  far  astray. 

Beam  the  first  glances  of  the  opening  day. 

So  dear  to  me  is  song’s  divine  employ; 

The  hero’s  praises  are  the  poet’s  joy! 

How  dear  the  days,  which  are,  alas !  no  more, 

When  with  thy  friendship  blest,  my  Caithalore ! 

In  warmth  of  youth  together  would  we  rove, 

And  talk  of  honour,  innocence,  and  love. 

From  my  remembrance  never  shall  depart 
Those  other  times,  deep-graven  on  my  heart! 

Oft  to  my  greenwood  dwelling  would’st  thou  stray, 

And  spend  the  evening  hour  to  hear  my  lay; 

Or  mingling  with  the  pastimes  of  the  green, 

Did’st  gain  the  victor’s  palm  in  every  scene. 

H 


86 


CAITHALORE. 


Still  when  Ultonia’s  sons  of  warlike  pride. 

In  marshall’d  ranks  the  coming  foe  defied, 

Thy  lifted  spear  shone  radiant  from  afar, 

A  beam  of  terror  in  the  front  of  war. 

Stout  were  his  heart  who  met  thee  on  the  field. 

And  strong  his  arm  thou  didst  not  force  to  yield; 

Fierce  as  the  storm  that  lays  the  forest  low. 

Thy  wrath  discharg’d  destruction  on  the  foe. 

But  Caithalore  in  glory’s  bosom  bleeds. 

Dire  was  the  last  and  brightest  of  his  deeds ! 

On  Dola’s  plain,  exulting  to  survey 
His  dauntless  warriors  in  their  firm  array, 

“  Heroes !”  he  cried — “  who  love  the  battle’s  rage, 
'Tis  in  a  father’s  cause  ye  now  engage. 

Soon  shall  yon  tyrant  sink  beneath  your  power, 

As  sinners  sink  in  heaven’s  avenging  hour. 

Your  swords  shall  break  my  captive  daughter’s  chain. 
And  give  Melchira  to  these  arms  again. 

What  though,  my  fellow  warriors!  ye  be  few. 

Your  cause  is  just,  and  all  your  hearts  are  true: 

Yon  numerous  host  shall  but  your  souls  inflame 
For  greater  vengeance,  and  for  greater  fame. 

Come  on  !  the  brave  can  danger’s  front  defy,  ’ 

We  fight  for  justice,  let  us  live  or  die !” 

Swift  through  opposing  ranks  theyhew’d  their  way. 
Through  pouring  legions  still  maintained  the  day. 

A  victim’s  life  they  snatched  at  every  blow. 

And  each  unerring  shaft  transpierc’d  a  foe. 


CAITH  ALORE. 


8 


No  spear  had  they  fierce  glittering  to  the  sun, 

But  soon  the  dreadful  work  of  death  had  done. 

Lo!  Caithalore,  all  stain’d  with  hostile  blood, 

Impels  the  battle  in  its  direst  mood. 

Fate  from  his  forceful  arm  conducts  the  lance, 

And  certain  death  obeys  each  fiery  glance. 

O’er  slaughtered  ranks  he  drives  his  rapid  way. 

And  makes  the  souls  of  heroes  feel  dismay ! 

’Till  chancing  near,  his  daughter’s  tent  to  see. 

He  bursts  its  prison  gate  and  sets  her  free. 

The  lovely  charge  five  ready  warriors  gain, 

And  safe  convey  her  to  her  native  plain. 

But  this  the  last — this  bright  achievement  o’er, 

Th’  exhausted  hero  sunk;  he  could  no  more. 

His  child  (’twas  all  his  wish)  was  safe  from  harm, 
And  for  himself,  he  dared  their  vengeful  arm. 

In  vain,  alas!  in  vain  his  gallant  few. 

Pour’d  round  their  chief,  and  charging  legions  slew. 
The  happier  stars  of  guilt’s  unbounded  sway. 

Bore  down  the  fortune  of  the  doubtful  day ! 

The  wounded  warrior  dragg’d  in  captive  plight, 
Celestial  virtue  saw,  and  shunned  the  sight! 

But,  oh!  what  pangs  Melchira’s  bosom  tore, 

When  first  she  learn’d  the  fate  her  father  bore. 

How  deep  the  sighs  her  gentle  spirit  gave, 

For  those  who  died  her  virgin  fame  to  save ! 

How  blest,  ye  shades !  for  whom  those  sighs  she  drew 
The  grateful  tears  of  beauty  flow  for  you ! 


88 


CAITHALORE. 


With  joy,  ye  hail,  from  midst  your  starry  bowers. 
The  strains  of  lovely  grief  she  sweetly  pours. 

“  Ah!  when  by  fraud  to  Cona’s  king  betrayed, 
When  in  his  hands  confined,  a  captive  maid, 
When  with  an  artful  tyrant’s  power  he  strove 
To  bend  my  virtue  to  unlawful  love; 

Why  did  I  rashly  heave  the  fatal  sigh. 

That  called  my  generous  countrymen  to  die ! 

Why  give  those  tears  unguardedly  to  swell. 

That  have  undone  the  sire  I  loved  so  well, 

Fix’d  to  his  life  a  sad  precarious  doom, 

And  bound  him  prisoner  in  his  daughter’s  room ! 
Where  is  the  prize  with  beauty  to  be  born  ? 

Ah !  why  did  female  charms  this  face  adorn, 

To  bring  misfortune  on  my  native  vale, 

And  bid  her  maids  her  bravest  sons  bewail  !5> 

Now  to  the  savage  soul  of  Cona’s  king, 

Deep  pierc’d  the  points  of  guilty  passion’s  sting, 
The  maid’s  escape  who  caus’d  the  glowing  pain. 
Had  but  increas’d  the  fire  in  every  vein. 

And  thus  to  Caithalore  of  fearless  mind. 

Where  in  the  dungeon  cell  he  lay  confin’d; 

“  Thou  chief!  he  said — thou  father  of  the  dame, 
Whose  matchless  beauties  all  my  breast  inflame; 
Thou  know’st  thy  life  dependent  on  our  throne. 
Yet  as  thou  choosest,  life  or  death’s  thy  own; 
From  off  thy  warlike  hands  we  strike  the  chain. 
And  thou  shalt  cheer  thy  mourning  friends  again. 
If  to  promote  my  wishes  thou  agree, 

And  bid  thy  lovely  daughter  favour  me. 


GAITHALORE. 


89 


Her  sire’s  commands  I  know  she  will  revere, 

For  to  her  filial  breast  her  sire  is  dear. 

Tell  her  what  honours  to  herself  and  friends, 

How  ev’n  her  father’s  life  on  her  depends ! 

Speak  now,  and  with  these  terms  of  life  comply, 

Or  the  first  sun  that  dawns  shall  see  thee  die?” 

With  indignation  stern  the  hero  frown’d; 

{<  Thoumay’st  insult” — he  said — “  this  arm  is  bound! 
But,  tyrant !  if  at  freedom  on  the  plain. 

My  taintless  honour  would’st  thou  dare  to  stain  ? 
Heavens !  if  thou  dar’d,  this  arm’s  descending  blow, 
Would  soon  consign  thee  to  thy  fate  below ! 

Abjur’d  by  virtue,  and  abhorr’d  by  fame, 

To  bid  a  father  work  his  daughter’s  shame ! 

Think’st  thou  this  breast,  as  villainous  as  thine, 

Can  yield  unmanly  to  a  base  design  ! 

Thy  threats  of  death,  which  with  contempt  I  hear  . 
’Tis  but  for  little  minds  like  thine  to  fear ! 

Death’s  direst  form  my  bosom  can  defy. 

And  in  the  cause  of  virtue  pants  to  die ! 

My  daughter  now  from  ruin,  guilt  and  thee, 

By  heaven’s  protecting  arm  and  mine  set  free, 

Shall  bless  with  tears  the  death  her  father  bore, 

And  bards  shall  spread  the  fame  of  Caithalore.” 

Yes;  glorious  Martyr!  Erin’s  bards  shall  swell 
Their  sweetest  notes  with  joy,  thy  praise  to  tell; 

And  when  thy  spirit  bending  from  the  skies. 

Shall  smile  to  hear  the  hallow’d  anthem  rise, 

H  2 


90 


THE  RURAL  COT. 


Oh !  then  what  rapture  shall  impel  along 
The  affecting  measures  of  their  magic  song, 
Until  it  reach  in  pathos  unconfined. 

An  ardor  equal  to  the  mighty  mind, 

And  fire  each  breast  that  hears  the  loud  acclaim, 
With  generous  emulation  of  thy  fame ! 


THE  RURAL  COT. 

Long  tossed  by  stern  misfortune’s  wind. 
Upon  the  world’s  tempestuous  sea. 

In  this  retreat  at  length  I  find, 

A  spot  of  sweet  tranquillity. 

The  welcome  of  a  heart  sincere. 

My  long  lost  friend  await  you  here, 

Then  hasten  to  my  fond  embrace, 

So  shall  your  woes  and  wand’rings  cease 
Within  my  rural  cot  of  peace. 

Between  two  hills  whose  tops  are  crown’d 
With  stately  groves  all  clad  in  green, 
Where  parks  and  meadows  smile  around. 
The  little  rural  cot  is  seen. 

There’s  not  a  bush  around  that  grows, 

But  sweetest  music  from  it  flows. 

Then  hasten  to  my  fond  embrace, 

So  shall  your  woes  and  wand’rings  cease. 
Within  my  rural  cot  of  peace. 


A  MONODY. 


91 


My  garden  stor’d  with  fruits  and  flowers, 
No  spot  on  earth  like  this  can  please, 
When  vernal  fragrance  scents  the  bowers, 
Or  Autumn  richly  loads  the  trees. 

What  pomp  of  power,  or  splendid  glare, 
Can  with  these  simple  sweets  compare! 
Then  hasten  to  my  fond  embrace, 

So  shall  your  woes  and  wand’rings  cease. 
Within  my  rural  cot  of  peace. 

Secure  within  this  shelt’ring  vale. 

We’ll  drive  all  former  cares  away; 

And  slowly  to  the  grave  we’ll  steal, 
Perceiving  scarce  the  smooth  decay. 
Our  blessing  friendship  while  we  live, 

The  highest  boon  this  world  can  give. 
Then  hasten  to  my  fond  embrace, 

So  shall  your  woes  and  wand’rings  cease, 
Within  my  rural  cot  of  peace. 


A  MONODY 

Ou  the  death  of  the  author’s  earliest  and  most  confidential  friend  Mr 
Thos.  Moore,  of  Larne,  Ireland;  who  in  September,  1819,  fell  a  victim  to 
Yellow  Fever,  at  Charleston,  S.  C.  after  little  more  than  two  days  illness. 

In  Carolina’s  fatal  clime, 

From  whence  fair  health  in  terror  flies; 

Cut  off  in  manhood’s  glowing  prime, 

My  earliest  friend  now  lowly  lies ! 


92 


A  MONODY. 


No  more  his  heart’s  warm  throb  shall  rise 
To  beat  in  sympathy  with  mine ! 

For  mute  that  voice,  and  clos’d  those  eyes, 

i 

I  thought  would  cheer  my  life’s  decline ! 


Ah!  what  avail’d  his  verdant  age, 

The  freshness  of  life’s  flowing  spring! 

No  aid  against  fell  fever’s  rage, 

Could  art  or  anxious  friendship  bring. 

It  deeply  pierc’d  with  scorpion  sting. 

And  health  and  life  at  once  destroyed; 

Oh !  then  he  rose  on  heaven-ward  wing 
And  left  to  me  a  dreary  void ! 

Long  had  my  heart  esteem’d  his  worth; 

Long  his  unchanging  faith  had  tried : 

In  one  lov’d  vale  we  had  our  birth, 

And  hoped  that  there  we  should  have  died ! 

But  o’er  yon  foaming  ocean  wide. 

Fate  called  him  from  his  native  shore; 

“  Adieu,  my  friend!”  he  said  and  sigh’d, 

“  We  part  perhaps  to  meet  no  more  !”* 


Friend  of  my  youth!  thy  words  were  true, 

And  deep  they  sunk  into  my  heart; 

The  solemn  tone  of  that  adieu, 

Its  fears  too  truly  did  impart: 

*  It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1817,  that  the  separation  here  alluded  to,  took 
place.  '*  When  shall  I  see  you  again?”  was  the  last  question  I  addressed  to 
my  friend.  “God  only  knows; perhaps  not  in  this  world!”  was  the  emphatic 
reply,  and  we  separated  with  heavy  hearts;  mine  labouring  under  a  melan¬ 
choly  presentiment  that  the  words  were  ominous. 


A  MONODY. 


93 


But  while  my  tears  of  sorrow  start, 

Faith  whispers  yet  of  joys  in  store, 

That  where  in  glory  now  thou  art, 

We’ll  meet — though  here  we  meet  no  morel 

For  thee,  not  Carolina’s  maids. 

Like  Erin’s  fair,  in  secret  mourn ! 

Nor  stranger’s  hands  ’mid  torrid  glades. 

With  vernal  flowers  thy  grave  adorn! 

Nor  dews  on  bending  shamrocks  borne, 
Their  weeping  lustre  there  display; 

Nor  linnets  from  their  native  thorn. 

Sing  softly  o’er  thy  hallow’d  clay! 

Yet  tribute  shall  to  thee  be  paid, 

In  plaintive  numbers,  by  thy  friend; 

And  still  to  join  thy  sainted  shade. 

His  dearest  wishes  shall  ascend ! 

While  to  his  strains  thine  ear  shall  bend, 
Indulgent,  as  it  oft  hath  done. 

Till,  all  his  sorrows  at  an  end. 

He  wins  the  prize  that  thou  hast  won ! 


TO  A  FRIEND, 

w  ho  wished  for  some  verses  in  celebration  of  an  intelligent  young  lady  ol 
whom  he  was  enamoured. 

Dear  William,  since  you  so  desire 
That  I  once  more  should  tune  the  lyre. 

Of  late  untun’d  so  long, 

Thy  own  Matilda’s  praise  I’ll  tell, 

And  with  her  bright  perfections  swell 
The  measures  of  my  song. 

With  joy  I  still  recall  that  night, 

When  first  she  met  my  eager  sight; 

I  thought  not  then  to  find. 

Though  high  her  worth  you  had  portray’d, 

So  bright  unparalleled  a  maid, 

In  manners  and  in  mind ! 

Her  looks  my  first  attention  caught; 

They  show’d  a  mind  replete  wfth  thought, 

Good  natur’d,  free  and  warm; 

And  when  she  spoke,  the  pleasing  tone 
Made  every  list’ningear  her  own, 

And  we  enjoy’d  the  charm. 

Each  sentence  seem’d  to  flow  unsought, 

And  flow’d  with  bright  ideas  fraught, 

In  elegance  array’d; 

Their  stores  the  intellectual  band, 

Obedient  brought  at  her  command, 

And  lavished  on  the  maid ! 


CUSH  LA  MA  CHREE. 


95 


What  signifies  the  boasted  show, 

That  makes  the  haughty  beauty  glow, 
If  empty  be  the  mind ! 

Let' such  in  gaudy  splendour  roll, 
Matilda  boasts  the  charms  of  soul, 
And  leaves  them  far  behind. 

In  vain,  my  friend,  to  eyes  like  thine, 
Does  all  their  useless  gilding  shine, 
You  love  the  better  part; 

The  maid  who  has  a  taste  refin’d, 

The  maid  who  has  Matilda’s  mind, 
Alone  can  charm  your  heart. 


CUSH  LA  MA  CHREE. 

A  SONG  FROM  THE  IRISH. 

By  moonlight  shades,  as  sad  I  stray’d, 

Along  yon  fibwery  vale, 

While  fragrance  sported  through  the  air. 

On  every  wanton  gale; 

With  anxious  heart  I  thought  on  her. 

Whom  I  no  more  must  see ! 

Adieu,  adieu  my  only  love,  my  Cush  la  ma  chree ! 

The  fairest  maid  on  Ullin’s  shore, 

Alas !  too  well  I  lov’d ! 

Long  did  I  plead  my  ardent  flame, 

But,  ah!  she  ne’er  approv’d! 


96 


CUSH  LA  MA  CHREE. 


And  hence  to  torrid  climes  I  fly, 

Climes  less  severe  than  she. — 

Adieu,  adieu,  my  only  love,  my  Cush  la  ma  chree. 

As  on  I  stray’d,  a  tender  voice. 

Soft  through  the  foliage  stole; 

I  paus’d,  for  ah!  the  plaintive  strains 
Had  siez’d  my  very  soul: 

“  He’s  gone,  he’s  gone  to  sultry  climes; 

“  The  dearest  youth  to  me ! 

“  Adieu,  adieu,  my  only  love,  my  Cush  la  ma  chree- 

“  ’Twas  first  beneath  these  willow  boughs, 

“  His  love  for  me  he  told; 

“  Methinks  that  voice  I  yet  can  hear, 

“  That  pleading  form  behold! 

“  Here  then  I’ll  mourn,  and  break  my  heart, 

“  Beneath  this  willow  tree! 

“  Adieu,  adieu  my  only  love,  my  Cush  la  ma  chree !” 

Swift  to  her  arms  with  bounding  haste. 

In  rapture  wild  I  flew. 

“  ’Tis  I!  ’tis  I!  my  life’s  delight ! 

“  And  dost  thou  love  so  true! 

“  With  ling’ring  steps,  heaven  kept  me  here, 

“No  more  to  part  from  thee! 

“  No,  never  more  we’ll  part  my  love,  my  Cush  la  ma 
chree.” 


THE-  end.  . 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 


3  0112  071867110 


